


Murphy's Law

by Trashibesensei



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Comedy, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-02-04 20:31:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 70,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12778941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashibesensei/pseuds/Trashibesensei
Summary: "Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong."Ever since Marceline spilled strawberry milk over the infamous princess of their school - who "coincidentally" appears to be her crush - her life is spiraling out of control, as whatever she does seems to instantly go wrong. Gaining her crush's interest, however, seems to be a weird side effect of the unpredictable mess that her life has become.





	1. Strawberry Milk

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm happy to say that I'm back after more than a year of not posting anything.  
> This is my first attempt at the dramatic present and I hope you like it ;)  
> As always, I'm still not a native speaker of English so I'm sorry if there should be an overwhelming amount of mistakes.

 

 _“God damn it”_ , I hiss in my mind, _“get outta the fucking way already!”_

It's always the same, every day. The school's hallways are overcrowded with non stop chitchatting, hormone-fueled teenagers that are reviving a goddamn zombie-walk or something of the like.

This is a school, a _High School_ for crying out loud, it should be illegal to walk _that_ slowly in a fucking school hallway where everyone is already stressed out enough.

Thank glob some of the younger teens recognize me, and after the brief look of horror in their eyes and the nervous whispering between their group of friends, they scatter out of my way and leave me a path right to the also very stuffed cafeteria.

 With only one thing on my mind – my delicious strawberry milk – I weave my path through the numerous tables and chairs occupied by classmates and other people I don't care about.

I sigh in relief when I finally reach the line for the counter where I can get my desired strawberry milk.

While casually waiting in line and leaning against the wall to my right, I take notice of the few suspicious glances directed at me every now and then. When I finally catch two pairs of eyes staring at me, I stare them down with the best scowl I can possibly manage.

The girls to whom the two pairs of eyes belonged visibly pale and hurriedly leave the cafeteria after that.

I grin in victory.

I don't know them anyway, so I'm just having my fun with them, using my reputation as the _'scary Vampire Queen haunting the school grounds_ '.

 I get why people think that way of me, I mean, _come on,_ I'm sickly pale and my birthmarks on my neck look _exactly_ like two bite marks “ _that are so undeniably from a vampire attack”_ \- that only called for a totally witless rumor to spread. As always. This school feasts on rumors and gossip.

 I just went along with it, I think it's funny.

Also, when there's actually someone brave enough to approach me – or say -  someone who's not fooled by that unbefuckinglievable dumb shit, I think they're actually worth my time. Otherwise I don't engage much with people other than my childhood friends and band members.

 

Time flies by, the line is moving and I'm finally able to receive my fresh strawberry milk right in this cold-ass milk bottle where the lid is always so slippery.  
Still, I'm already so excited to take it off that my hands start slightly shaking as I do so.

Or it’s just the lack of sugar in my system, which is why I’m here in the first place.

When I hear the satisfying _plop!_ of the lid coming off, I can't help my face turn into that of a little child on Christmas tearing my presents open.

I want to make my way back to the exit because the presence of all the people in here is annoying, but something draws my attention to a certain table in the middle of the student-filled room.

My eyes land on beautiful pink hair, and I forget how to swallow for a second.

That pink hair undoubtedly belongs to the infamous _Princess_ of our school _.  
_ Bubblegum, I believe is what her friends call her. Or more like _Princess Bubblegum,_ ha tata, I'm so famous and rich and beautiful and have flawless skin, yada, yada.

I can't stop the little tingle in my stomach when I notice her presence, though. She's laughing about something her friend said. She's really adorable when she laughs.

 

To be honest, I couldn't believe myself when I finally came to terms with my inner self and figured out that I had developed a _tiiiny_ crush on the biggest science nerd our school has ever fostered.

I first noticed her in my chemistry class, something I totally suck at.  
She made the problems and equations seem so easy, like it was something she usually went through in her sleep. The cutest thing is the excited spark in her eyes whenever she delivers the perfect answer to the class and makes the teacher flash her an impressed smile.

Science was truly something she lived for.

Well, I know what it is like to have something that you live for. That's exactly what I feel towards music, I guess.

Even though our fields of interest are different, I can still relate to the joy it brings to her whenever she talks about science-y things, something she absolutely adores and indulges in. I have my own band, which is on the perfect way to success, so I can relate to that.

Sometimes I can't deny that I see a stuck-up bitch in her, nonetheless. She's barely able to forgive mistakes, she's very uptight at times and doesn't like it when something doesn't go her way.

Yes, I might have a crush on her, but I'm not seeing things through rose-colored glasses just yet.

  
Anyway, maybe I can sneakily get a closer glance at her when I casually walk by her table.

Why not talk to her directly? I'm not really sure if I'm ready for that yet. Gimme some time.

Dodging chairs and students in my way, I approach the table of what you would call the “popular” people, while still nibbling on my milk from time to time.  
Of course I'm taking utmost care not to spill my strawberry milk on my way.

But sometimes even things such as being embarrassingly careful doesn't prevent accidents from happening.

  
I'm finally next to her, trying to take one last glance... when it happens.

 

Someone from the neighboring table _fucking_ bumps their chair into me, and I can tell that hell is going to break loose in the next second.  
As the pink bottled liquid slips from my hand - and _I swear_ everything is moving in slow motion in that moment – I can see my ordinary high school life flushing down the drain as I notice who the contents of my bottle will hit.

 

Everybody will know it was me who spilled milk over _Princess Bubblegum,_ and that's something I will never be able to live down.

 

The bottle flips upside down, I can hear _'Ave Maria'_ blaring through my head while I watch, mesmerized, how the beautiful pink lid comes off the bottle and the pink fluidly content spills all over the matching pink locks of my crush.

 

“...”

 

In the next instant, everything and everyone freezes. I want to flee so badly, but the fear has me in a tight grip which makes it impossible to move while my thoughts run wild.

Fight or flight, fight or flight-fight-or-flightfightor-

There's no time for thinking, I shut my brain down and every valuable thought and make my escape, bolting right out of the cafeteria, pushing several annoying students out of my way and tripping over chairs on my way out.

Did anyone actually see that it was me who spilled the milk? What am I thinking, everyone saw it!  
Jesus, Marcy, why did you run away! Now you look like a total coward. You didn't even apologize.

 

Thanks for nothing, brain.

 

I ruffle my hair in frustration and let a really deep and loud groan escape my throat, which makes some students in the hall turn around to look at me all weirded out.  
That's not how you professionally flirt with somebody, isn't it?

Well, hopefully she didn't see it was me.  
Or one of her friends.

How would I even explain that?

Well, okay yeah, someone bumped into me and I accidentally spilled my drink on her, but how should I explain running away like a coward? That's not only a big crack in my reputation but also gravely hurts my pride.

But what should I say, I've never been really good at thinking straight _._

Lame jokes aside, that was really not like you, Marceline, and I should really get going because I'm still standing in the hallway contemplating my life while someone could be catching up to me, and then I would have to-

“There, that's her!”

 

… Too late.

I must look like a deer in the headlights right now, scared to even move an inch, although certain death was approaching.

“Hey you, did you spill that **milk** over my friend?!”  
I slowly turn around at the really deep and manly voice and I'm pretty sure I'm about to face my nemesis.

Yep, there she is, clad in a purple sweater that has big strawberry milk stains on it, her hair a sticky mess and her expression one that would make you shit your pants. Trust me, I guarantee.

A guy with a remarkable mustache and an Asian girl are standing next to her. Her friends, I assume.  
“I ask again,” the guy with the mustache says, “did you spill the drink over B- Oh my glob!”

As soon as I face them, mustache-boy shuts up and his face does what everyone's usually does upon meeting my gaze – it contorts into some type of anxious grimace, paling instantly.

“It's Marceline the _Vampire Queen_!” he gasps and shakes Bubblegum's shoulder.  
“What did you do to evoke the anger of the feared Vampire Queen of our school?!”

Bubblegum is seemingly annoyed and it looks like she has absolutely no idea what her friend is even talking about. She pushes his arms away from her, clearly irritated.

“ ** _I_** didn't do anything to her! To be specific, I haven't even talked to this girl once in my lifetime!” she growls and sends me a death glare.  
“Would you be so kind and explain why in the world you spilled _strawberry milk_ over me?” She demands with boiling anger dripping from her voice.

I shrink back a little. I know there's no escaping this now.

“Yo, Bubblegum! You're walking on really thin ice here!” her friend warns her (although obviously, I'm not posing any kind of threat to her or anyone).  
She flat-out ignores him and raises an eyebrow at me instead. “Well?”

“I-...”, fumbling with my hands, I try to form at least one comprehensible sentence before I start rambling.

“Well, you see, I was just passing by when someone bumped into me and the milk slipped out of my hand and spilled all over you...” I mumble, trying not to seem too much like a cowardly loser for also running away in the end. Which I am.  
“And, well yeah, I think I owe you an apology, because I ruined your hair and your shirt and probably also kind of embarrassed y-”

“No,” she interrupts but motions me to go on rambling.

“W-well, anyway, sorry I ran away and I don't know how to make up for it, maybe buy you some coffee, do your homework for you, pay for a new shirt, I don't know, whatever you want, seriously!”

Glob, I'm really out of breath. Sweet rambling, Marcy, you really are acting like a number-one dumbfuck today.

At least I hope that my rambling could somehow appease the princess a little. I have no idea if she's going to accept my apology, and judging by her furrowed eyebrows and overall grim face it doesn't seem very likely, either.

Her mustache friend looks completely baffled. I can get why. It's really embarrassing that he saw me like this, but hey, I do have a sensible core and some low self-esteem at times.

The Asian girl looks back and forth between us with a really worried face. I'm not sure if she's worried about her friend or me, to be honest. I mean, who knows what the princess is capable of? Maybe she's going to launch herself at me to beat me into a pulp in the next second.

 

“Fine,” Bubblegum finally speaks, “tomorrow at four after school we're going to grab some coffee. Don't be late.”

I'm still shocked and dumbstruck as the princess is already about to turn around and leave my poor soul alone with that statement.

“Tomorrow at four?” I make sure that I heard right.  
“Yes, are you deaf? See you tomorrow.” And just like that, she leaves.

Her friends look just as baffled as I'm feeling before they catch up to her, leaving me standing all alone in the now empty hallway.  

As the shock slowly subsides, I let myself rest against a locker and start trying to comprehend everything that just happened.  
As my mind clears up, I finally realize that I'm actually gonna be drinking coffee tomorrow – _with my motherfucking crush._

 

Okay, you can't exactly count it as a romantic date but it sure is a start.

 

Maybe spilling milk all over your crush isn't always a bad thing.

 


	2. Coffee Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone that left a kudo on this story so far, and well "commented" on it, you are the people that keep writers and their stories alive ♥  
> This chapter is almost twice as long as the first one (or even longer?) So I hope you enjoy it even more!  
> Also lots of foreshadowing in this one. 
> 
> And btw I always recommend you to listen to the songs mentioned throughout the fanfic. Trust me, you will like it.

“Daddy! DAAD!! Where the hell are my car keys?!”

“Uhm...” My dad, clothed in only a tank top and underpants who was just about to grab some breakfast, looks at me with tired eyes mixed with a hint of extreme confusion.

I groan. “You're not really helping, you know.”

Maybe it's not fair to get mad at him since they're _my_ car keys and _I am_ the one who lost them, but right now I'm so stressed out that my brain makes me irrationally angry at everything.

“Uhm, Marceline…”

I've read that we perceive people that annoy us as moving more slowly than they actually are. And right now, looking at my dad I can only see a puzzled looking sloth staring at me, which is kinda funny but also seriously frustrating at the same time. He slowly raises his hand to point at something, but he's taking way too long so I just continue to flip tables and chairs to find my stupid keys. I groan again when there's just no sign of them anywhere.

“Marcy…,” my dad tries again. Even the way he speaks is putting me on edge.

“What?!” I snap and instantly regret my outburst.

 

“They're in your hands.”

 

Yep, there they are. I facepalm.

“Jeez. Sorry daddy, ” I meekly apologize and hold on tight to the keys in my hands.

He shrugs and flashes me a sloppy smile. “It's fine. Is something bothering you? I don't think I've seen you being this rattled before.”

Despite the surprise that my dad can actually tell that I'm acting a bit off today,  I'm not really in the mood to tell him that it's probably because I'm gonna have some coffee with the girl I've been crushing on in a few hours.

That's not really the kind of talk I want to have with someone who's barely had any time for me since I was a child, as the businessman he is.

“Ah you know, tests are coming up, it's really stressful and stuff. Don't worry, this won't last long,” I promise, even though this is total bullshit, since tests are still far away. It doesn't even matter since he barely cares about what I’m doing at school as long as I’m getting acceptable grades and do not draw any unwanted attention on me.

“Alright,” is all he has to say to that before he returns his attention to his still steaming-hot coffee and newspaper.

I suppress the eyeroll at his feigned interest that disappeared as fast as it surfaced. His attempts at bonding with me are pathetic, but I guess for him it seems like he’s making actual progress with the little small talk here and there. I will leave him in his illusion just so he leaves me alone.

I grab my Pop Tart that I’ve put in the toaster before I started my key-hunt and make sure that I’ve packed everything for the day.

Keys - check. Bag - check. Wallet - probably in my bag, so check.

“See you later, dad,” I shout from in between the front door while I’m putting on my shoes.  
“See you later, Marceline. Think about my offer, will you?” My dad shouts back and I groan when he mentions his _offer_.

His offer is me taking over his company so I will have a shitton of money when I’m all grown-up. The thing is, as awesome as it sounds to have so much money that you could feed whole Africa, his company is so supremely corrupted that I’m still wondering why I’m not seeing my dad behind bars at the moment. I’m pretty sure he’s also buying his way out of there. I don’t really want to get involved or associated with that, you see.

Ignoring my dad, I go over to my car and start the engine. Heavy guitar sounds blare from the car’s speakers and help me wake up better than any coffee could ever do. And suddenly I remember my upcoming date later that day and the nervousness washes over me like a tidal wave,  drowning everything but the nervous feeling that makes me clench the steering wheel so tightly that my hands turn white.

Oh hell, how long has it been since I've gone on an actual date. Too long, I conclude. _“But Marcy”,_ I scold myself, “ _this is not a date. It's merely an apology, so calm the fuck down.”_

My brain is right for once. Bubblegum would never go on an actual date with me. The nervousness subsides but now a new feeling settles in that makes me wish the nervousness wouldn't have left in the first place.

Disappointment.

 

“Why are you always doing this to yourself, Marceline,” I whisper to myself. Can there just be one time when falling in love won't turn into a painful disappointment?I sigh and lift my head that has been resting on the steering wheel and decide that it's useless to wish for something you will never be able to have.

 

«♣»«♣»

 

If I were a person that smokes, I would be halfway through the second package of cigarettes by now, that's how nervous I am. I'm pacing in front of the entrance like a caged tiger, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans every now and then and checking the time at least every 20 seconds.

I don't know what extra-curricular activities Bubblegum engages in, but I've been free since two and have to kill time with whatever comes to mind. For the last 30 minutes I've just been walking back and forth even though I still have two hours to waste in which I could do something more productive.

Hmm. Something productive …

I still have my ukulele in my car. I took it with me when I went to my best friend Keila for a jam-session where I wanted to try it out. Guess this is the best way I can spend my time now.

I grab the instrument from the backseat of the car and settle back down on the stairs to the entrance.  
It's more than clear that the ukulele needs to be tuned. When everything finally sounds as it should, I strum some random notes and just play something that comes to my mind.

I remember a really silly song that I've found while scrolling through some ukulele songs. It's not really hard to play and sure has a cheery tune. I hum the lyrics while my fingers knowingly glide across the strings.

 Time flies by when you get absorbed by music and blend everything out so you can concentrate on solely the sound of your instrument as it slowly turns into a part of yourself, a melody akin to your heartbeat and rhythm of your soul. You just become one with the music. Or it's just me being the music-nerd I am, I don't know.

I'm still strumming the ukulele,  engulfed in a rather  fast-paced song and don't see that someone's approaching me until I suddenly hear a voice right behind me.

 

“You're really good at this.”

 

I nearly jump and slip from the strings, producing a really dramatic _drriing_ sound with the ukulele.

I turn around and am directly facing two long and well-shaped legs. Bubblegum is standing on the last step of the stairs and is looking down at me. On more than one level I suppose.

“Hey,” I get up and greet her and thank whatever that is that's watching over us that I didn't fuck up my greeting with a nervous stutter. Because suddenly the tension that was completely erased by the sound of my ukulele a few moments ago hits me again and is roasting the end of my nerves, making it really hard for me to just even move a muscle. The sweaty palms are back as well, now also accompanied by a dry throat and a churning stomach.

Just now I notice that she’s actually complimented me. “And, uh, thanks, I guess.”

I hope I’m not flushing red but I probably am. I mean, her compliment sure means a lot to me.

“You’re welcome,” she says without any sign of emotion now that I look at her face. Maybe the compliment was just something to get the conversation started? Glob, I hope not.

“Have you been waiting long? I’m sorry, but I thought you also had extra-curricular activities or a club to attend.” She’s right next to me now and looking me in the eyes. I’m trying to hold eye-contact but I take notice that it kind of prevents me from answering her question so I look at anything but her.

“I, uhm, well not really. Two hours, but that’s fine, I had my ukulele. And yeah,  don’t do extra-curricular, not at this school at least.”

Bubblegum frowns at me but doesn’t ask. I take that as my cue to lead her to my car.  
“My car is over there, if you wanna get going now. I don’t know if you had a special place in mind but I chose a café about a twenty-minute drive from here because it really is a nice place and I thought you might like it.”

She nods and walks down the last steps of the stairs.  
“I didn’t expect you to put that much thought into it, you know. And I especially didn’t think you would still be here after I let you wait for two hours.”

I chuckle nervously. I surely wouldn’t have done this for anybody.  
“Well, I owe you. And usually when I do something, I don’t do it half-heartedly.”

That is a big lie, especially when it comes to school work and especially when it comes to science stuff and I hope she won’t remember that I said this, ever. The only exception I can make here is music, but that’s about it.

Bubblegum smirks at me, as if she knows more than she should and it makes me just a tad bit uncomfortable. I don’t know if it’s a good sign that that’s the first emotion I could get out of her. Well,  despite the fury when I spilled that milk over her.

“Okay, I will let you surprise me,” she says as  we approach the car. She opens the door and lets herself down on the passenger seat.

“I hope you will like it,” I tell her while getting in the driver’s seat myself and put on my seatbelt.

“Do you wanna listen to music?”

“Oh, yeah sure. Put on whatever you like, it’s your car.” This time she smiles at me, but I’m not sure if it’s genuine or just polite.

I decide for a radio station that mostly plays charts because I don’t want to scare her off with my out of the norm music taste.

The first part of the ride to the café is mostly spent in silence with me always trying to find something to talk about but Bubblegum just staring out of the window, anyway, so I let be. She looks really peaceful like this and I figure that she might even be enjoying the silence, so I decide to leave her alone.

 “Do you usually listen to this kind of music?”

I have to blink several times, I was neither prepared that Bubblegum would ask me something at all nor that she would ask something _like this_.

“Well, it depends. I usually listen to all kind of music, but nah, that’s not the genre I prefer.”

“I knew it,” she says and there’s that knowing smirk from earlier again. I think she’s trying to figure me out.

“How come? I never imagined me as an open book, you know,” I honestly reply.

Bubblegum shifts in her seat and stretches out. Her back cracks loudly and we both look at each other with our eyebrows raised. Then we both start cackling, I more out of nervousness because I really needed something to ease up this awkward situation.

“Jeez, just how old are you again?” I ask mockingly and Bubblegum huffs.

“Old enough,” she answers with a stern face and crossed arms.

“Okay, I’m seventeen. How about you?”

“Eighteen,” I say, “and you’re avoiding my question, princess.”

 

There’s a moment of silence where Bubblegum just blinks at me as if I’m some other-dimensional being that has just manifested in the driver’s seat out of thin air.

“ **_Princess_ **? I’ve had a lot of nicknames, but this one clearly tops them all.”

I’m honestly a bit surprised since I was pretty sure that I’ve heard her friends calling her this before. “Really? I swear I heard one of your friends calling you Princess Bubblegum or something.”

Bubblegum makes a snorting sound as if to underline the ridiculousness of what I just said. 

“They call me Bubblegum, that’s true. But I can’t recall ever being called ‘princess’ or the like. It sounds kind of stuck-up and pretentious, don’t you think?”

I laugh softly and try not to give away that sometimes that’s just exactly how some people - me included - think of her.

“Why are you laughing?” Bubblegum doesn’t ask but more, like, demands to know.

“Ah, it’s nothing. I think the nickname suits you.” I can imagine what she must look like now, but I can only get a quick glance at her flustered face because I have to pay attention to the road.  
“Don’t worry, Princess. I don’t mean it in a bad way. Princesses are really charming and well-mannered. Sometimes they can be all high and mighty, but you know, everyone has that little arrogant asshole locked deep down inside them. Some people just like to show it more often than others, that’s totally fine.”  
I can feel my self-esteem finally return from the abyss it was thrown in when I spilled that milk over her yesterday and my teasing and playful side following along the more time I spend with her.

Meanwhile Bubblegum is trying to come back at me but is clearly struggling for words.

“I can’t believe that you said that. You don’t even know me!”

 Again I have to hide the big grin that’s trying to make itself at home on my face.

“Jesus, Bubblegum, you’re really easy to mess with,” I snort and carefully pat her shoulder with my free hand.

“Hmpf,” the princess grumbles and faces away from me, arms crossed again just like she had done before.

“To answer your question from before, it’s not really hard to tell that a delinquent like you is listening to annoyingly loud electric guitars and distasteful lyrics.”

“Delinquent?!” I almost shout in disbelief. I don’t think I’ve heard right!? “What in the world makes you think that I’m a fucki-”

“Oh jeeez. You’re so easy to mess with, you know that?” This time it’s her who laughs mischievously at my outburst and I have to say, she took me by surprise.

“You got me there, _princess_.” I shake my head. “But do you really think of heavy metal and such as distasteful music?”

Bubblegum shrugs. “I don’t really know much about music, you see. I used to play trumpet in the school band but, well, that's about it. I’m not going to judge something I don’t know about. Also, I just thought you like that kind of music because you’re giving off that vibe. It was just an assumption, or like, intuition.”

“Or was it because of my pitch-black hair and dark wardrobe, because you like to be so superficial?” I tease but hope that didn't sound too mean.

“Maybe it was,” she replies quietly. “But I’m not superficial,” she then adds hastily.

“I’m taking you at your word, then. We’re there, by the way.”  

I pull over and stop the car not too far away from the little café. Since it’s sunny outside, there are a lot of people eating in the café’s outside-area, which looks more like a garden but really cute with a lot of colorful flowers I can’t even name, and a few apple trees. Unlike most cafés, this place offers soft cushions with petal-design on their chairs, which is a big plus in my opinion. The café is held in a strawberry-like pink shade and always reminds me of a dollhouse. A pink dollhouse, something Bubblegum could have been playing with when she was younger. Rather big sunshades in pastel-pink were guarding the customers from the sun outside.

 “It’s really nice,” Bubblegum acknowledges and I’m pretty amused at the big eyes she’s making.

“Yup, that’s what I thought, “ I agree while I lock the car,sling my bag over my shoulder, and open the garden gate to the outside-area of the café, already looking out for an unoccupied table to sit at.

“Over there,” Bubblegum says and points at a table pretty much at the farthest end of the little garden. It’s still a nice spot, so we make our way over to the table and make ourselves comfortable on the cushioned chairs.

“Have you eaten here before? Anything you can recommend?” Bubblegum asks as she takes the menu for ice cream and cake from the table and skims over the various offers.

“Oh yes, you totally have to try the apple pie. It’s gonna make your tastebuds explode into a firework of awesomeness. But I’m settling for the strawberry-cheesecake today.”

She nods and sucks her lip in while she’s reading through the other options.It does look kind of sexy when she sucks her lip in like that. And I desperately try to find something else to look at.  
“And you totally didn’t choose this café because my wardrobe suits the exterior of this place at all, didn’t you?” She asks and puts the menu down to show me her mocking expression.

I turn a bit red, because yes, it might have influenced my choice, but it also is a nice little café with delicious food and drinks.  
“I will be honest. It didn’t play a big role but it sure contributed to the choice. But you like it, right?”  
“Oh yes, I do.” A content expression settles on her face as she leans back in her chair and closes her eyes.

A waitress approaches us and takes on our orders, strawberry-cheesecake for me and the famous apple pie for Bubblegum plus two coffees.

“You’re really into strawberries, aren’t you?”  
I flush and nervously scratch the back of my head. “Because of the strawberry cheesecake?”

“And the strawberry milk. ”

I sigh. “You’re really reading me like an open book, aren’t you,” I say jokingly, but really only half-jokingly.  
“Yeah, I think strawberries are pretty nice. And, uh, you know, sorry again. Because of yesterday. Could you get the stains out of your sweater?” I ask the last part rather carefully.

Bubblegum just waves me off. “It’s fine, nothing a washing machine can’t fix. My hair was a different matter, though. I let myself be taken home because it was just so sticky and felt gross. It also smelled too sweet and made me sick.”

I hide my face behind my hand, embarrassed and feeling really sorry for the girl.  
“I’m so sorry. I hope I can at least cheer you a little bit up today. Makes me wonder,” I say but the waitress approaches us again with our coffee and cake and I politely say “thank you” before she leaves again.

“Anyway,” I start again, “why did you choose drinking coffee with me over the other options?” That is something I have been pondering over since yesterday, since that offer slipped from my tongue in the heat of the moment. Otherwise I would never have had the balls to ask her to “grab some coffee.”

Bubblegum takes a package of sugar, rips it open and pours the white content in her coffee, takes another one and repeats the procedure before stirring it all with a spoon.

“First of all, I didn’t need a new sweater and wouldn't want to just accept money from a stranger. Secondly, your offer about doing my homework, well… You see, I don’t think that would’ve been a good idea, since my expectations are fairly high.” I honestly think there’s more to that statement, but I think it's better to bite back my comment on that.  
“And lastly, I wasn’t able to just relax and have some conversation with someone in a long time. I do like working a lot, but as my friends always say I’m sometimes really overdoing it. Also,” she’s picking at her food as if the next thing is a bit hard for her to admit, “I also wanted to give you a chance. Get to know you. I know that you’re in my science class, but I never knew who you really are.”

Hearing that she actually wanted to get to know me makes an odd warmth spread through my chest. It’s a nice kind of warmth. Something I haven’t felt in a while.

“Well, here I am,” I say and put on a dorky grin. “Music-nerd, average student and grumpy vampire queen.”

Because of all the talking we’re not really getting started on our cake or coffee, I noticed. I take that as a good sign. The strawberry-cheesecake sure does look really tempting, however. I dig my fork in and take a first bite. It tastes just as awesome as always.

“Yeah, reminds me. Jake also mentioned something about ‘ _Vampire Queen’_ . What in the world is up with that?”  
“Mustache-boy?” I ask, mouth still full,  meeting Bubblegum’s scowl the next second and realize my mistake as I am sitting here with the _princess_ , remember?

I swallow my bite and say, “I’m actually surprised that you haven’t heard about this. But, yeah. I’m Marceline, the Vampire Queen. See this?”

I lift my black locks and give Bubblegum a better view on my neck.

She leans over and observes it carefully. The way she intently stares at my neck, how her eyes glide up and down until they settle on the two dark spots right above my carotid artery, makes me swallow hard.

 “They look like bite marks,” Bubblegum confirms and waits for me to go on.

“That they do. Bitemarks plus that I’m extremely pale and I’ve even heard some people describing me as ‘gloomy’, all that added to that ridiculous rumor that I’m a vampire. Some people even say that they haven’t seen me outside during the day and of course not on especially sunny ones. Which is total crap, I mean see. We’re outside right now. I didn’t combust or anything, right?” I have to stifle the incoming laughter.

“So, yeah,  that rumor totally spiraled out of control there. There was one time when I put in fake vampire-teeth and flashed them at students that I knew were especially aware of me. I’m still impressed that no one has tried to impale me with stakes yet. I’ve heard one girl saying prayers, though.”

Bubblegum has her hand in front of her mouth and is trying to not choke on the sip of coffee she has just taken.   
“Seriously,” she chokes out between breaths and snickering, “I didn’t take our students for that stupid.”

“Yup,” I say and let the ‘p’ pop at the end. “It’s ridiculous. The super religious are the worst. But it is also kind of helpful. People avoid me and I don’t have to put up with them. It’s easier to figure out who’s worth spending time with and who’s not.”

“Am I worth your time, you think? Or is this like the first and last time we might talk to each other? ” Bubblegum asks, her arms resting on the table, coffee in her hands. She’s searching for my eyes but I just can’t look at her without becoming a total mess.

My eyes fixate on my fingers that are playing with the end of the tablecloth. “I think so, yeah. I don’t know you that well, but I feel comfortable around you. Well, I mean now after that incident where I am not face to face with the scary side of yours. Am I worth your time, you think?”

I didn’t even want to ask because I’m scared of the answer. Why I did so anyway is beyond me.

Bubblegum is narrowing her eyes as if deep in thought , making a ‘hmm’ sound while I’m melting into a nervous puddle.

“I’m just kidding,” she says after a while,  probably because she noticed how much I must have tensed up.  “I’m really enjoying myself today. I might even forget about yesterday.”

I’m letting go of the breath that I had been holding in. “I’m glad.”

We're both silently smiling at each other before turning our attention to our cakes and I’m secretly watching Bubblegum enjoying her cake maybe a bit more than she should.

“You’re right,” she begins but not after swallowing first, “this cake is really unbelievably good. Just... wow.” I don’t even know how to describe her face, but something just changed in the way it looks. Less tense? Maybe. She looks happy, that’s a good thing at least.  
“Again, just... Oh Glob!” Bubblegum is rolling her eyes back into her head and is already halfway through the cake. And of course I’m just sitting there, staring at her like a creep.

 I never knew watching someone eat food could be this interesting. I’m afraid it could turn into one of my favorite activities.

 _"Jesus Christ, Marcy. There’s no helping you anymore, or is there?”  
_ Nope, I answer my brain. I’m screwed.

I absentmindedly dig into my cake and work my way through it so I don’t look too suspicious and make her uncomfortable in the end. However, it's really hard to just not look at her.

“So,” I begin while shoving the last crumbs of my cake on my fork with my finger. “Bubblegum, yeah? What’s the story behind that name?”

“Oh well,” she’s wiping her mouth with a napkin that had been resting on her lap  before she neatly folds it and puts it next to her empty plate, “it all started when my friends found out that my parents are the owners of ‘ _The Candy Kingdom’_ ”.

My eyes widen so much that I'm almost scared that they will pop out any second.   
The Candy Kingdom is one of the best producers of any kind of candy ever. It almost makes it feel like I'm talking to a celebrity right now.

“No fu-, err.., - effing _way_. You are the daughter of the famous Candy Kingdom imperial?! I loooove their sweets.” I can't even stop gaping, that's how impressed I am right now.

Bubblegum just smiles and shrugs nonchalantly; it's probably not the first time someone has reacted to these news the way I'm doing at the moment.

“So,  they started calling me ‘Bubblegum’ instead of my real name,  but I took a liking to that name. It’s gone so far that I’m even introducing myself as Bubblegum sometimes instead of my given name, which usually leads to confused looks and raised eyebrows, but I can't help it.”

“So, what’s your real name then?  I mean, even our _science_ _teacher_ calls you Bubblegum,” I ask with an arched eyebrow myself. I’ve been trying to find a name that could fit her, but up to this point I just couldn’t pinpoint anything that could do her justice. 

Do you know how sometimes the names perfectly fit with the image? Like, you hear a name and have this picture of a person in mind, then you turn around and are exactly met with your expectations?

Well, Bubblegum remained an unsolved mystery in that regard. I’m really excited to finally be enlightened.

 

“It’s Bonnibel.”

 

“Bonnibel..,” I repeat, trying out the sound of the name rolling from my tongue. I like it. “That’s a nice name. Pretty unique.”  
Bonnibel just shrugs again and takes a sip from her coffee. “You know what’s weird? I’m so used to being called Bubblegum that my own name feels… foreign.”

“Does it make you feel uncomfortable? I know that some parents call their children by their nicknames and only by their given names when it means trouuble.”

Bonnie - I decide that Bonnibel is just too long - squints her eyes at me. “No, it doesn’t really make me uncomfortable. I’m just not used to it. It’s like you’re talking to a different person and not me.”  
I hum at that and send her a teasing smile. “What if I told you that I like your actual name better, though?”

Bonnie instantly returns the smile and hums back at me, “Then you will still have to get used to calling me Bubblegum, just like everyone else does.”

“But _Bonnie_ ,” I whine, earning an irritated frown from the princess.

“What did you just call me?”

“Bonnie-”

“It’s Bubblegum for you.”

“Okay, bubble butt, but I th-”  
  
“Stop it with the stupid nicknames.”

 “Never.”

Bonnie groans. “ _Fine_ ,” she spits out. “Call me Bonnie all you want if it makes you happy. As long as you’re not calling me princess - or **bubble butt** -, everything is fine.”  
I grin triumphantly. “Sweet.”

Seeing as we both are finished with our cakes and coffees, I figure that I could call the waitress to pay so we can slowly get ready to leave.

When the waitress nods in approval, I grab my bag from underneath my chair to retrieve my wallet.

 

“Uhm…”

 

I know that bags sometimes transform into some kind of wormhole where all the things you’re looking for - especially when you’re in a hurry - are transported to another dimension, so I take it that I just need to dig deeper to find my wallet.  
After a while of useless rummaging around and still finding no sign of my wallet anywhere, my stomach begins to twist and I can feel my body run cold.

  _"This is not happening right now_ ," I think to myself, a really unsettling feeling overtaking my body.

_"Oh Glob, no…."_

“Are you okay?” Bonnie asks with apparent concern. I feel slightly flattered, but unbearably sick at the same time.  
I eventually take my head out of my bag and give Bubblegum a blank stare. Too many emotions are colliding in my head, causing a literal system error in my brain.

“I, uhm..” I start fidgeting in my chair, feeling exposed and uneasy under her worried eyes.

“I,  uhm.. you see, uh.. … SeemslikeIforgotmywallet.” I flinch like a scared dog expecting some beating and press my eyelids shut. “I’m sorry,” I add breathlessly, not going to repeat my mistake from yesterday.

First, there’s an oppressive silence in which I’m not able to open my eyes because I’m too scared to face Bonnie and the hateful emotions displayed on her face. I’m pretty sure that they are there, at least.

 

“Okay.”

 

There’s no hatred in her voice, no disappointment. The word was spoken with complete lack of emotion.

I slowly open my eyes and catch Bonnie producing her wallet - which I note is also bright pink - and feel the guilt wash over me like pouring cold rain.

Her face is contorted with what I assume is anger or annoyance, and suddenly the good mood that was built over the time in the car and up to now in the café completely vanishes from the surface of this world, like the sun does when it makes place for the dark hours of the night. Only that this is not a quiet, peaceful night but a cold and menacing nightmare.

 _"Say something_ ," my mind begs but my tongue feels like a giant, tight knot.  
I clench my fists so hard that my fingernails press into the skin of my palms in an attempt to feel something else but the nerve-wracking guilt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose.” I’m surprised at the words coming from my mouth that have somehow defeated the blockade in my twisted head and broke free.

Bonnie sighs, avoiding my gaze. “You can be glad that at least I took my wallet with me. I actually thought I wouldn’t need it today and wanted to leave it at home.”  
I don’t know what to say to that. I’m really glad that this situation didn’t turn out worse, though. 

The feared waitress returns with the bill and Bonnie pays, not without leaving a generous tip behind. Then Bonnie stands up, storing her wallet in the pocket of her jeans and I follow suit.  
We walk to my car in awkward silence, but when we both sit down I can’t bear it anymore.

“So, seems like I still owe you,” I jokingly try to ease the tense atmosphere.

Before Bonnie can answer, I add, “I will pay you back, I promise. I ... don’t want you to think that I’m a freelancer on top of spilling milk over you.” Then more quietly I say, “I was really looking forward to today. Sorry for ruining it…”

Bonnie just buckles up. “Alright.”

I’m slightly peeved at her stubborn attitude, but of course it’s understandable that it’s a really shitty situation for her and probably a big disappointment as well. I mean, first I spill strawberry milk over her and then I make her pay for _my_ treat.

Rethinking everything I’ve done to her up to this point, I realize that she’s actually going easy on me with her silent treatment. I’m a stranger to her and treating her miserably for no apparent reason.

“Will you give me the directions to your house?” Is the last thing I ask her on that day when I start my car and pull out of the parking lot.

“Of course,” she replies dryly, eyes glued to the window.

Nothing more but the short directions she’s giving me like “turn left next street” or “turn right here,” is said during the car ride during which I try to concentrate on solely her directions and the road.

"Pull over here.” We come to a halt next to a rather pompous mansion at which I can only gawk in astonishment.  
“Thank you for the ride, Marceline,” is the last thing she says before the door slams shut and Bonnie climbs the pebble stone walkway up to her enormous home.

When she’s finally disappeared inside without sparing me a second glance, I let my head fall onto my steering wheel, immediately jumping back in shock when the car’s honk goes off.

I look around to see if anyone noticed my slip and hurriedly drive off to get home as fast as possible, wondering if I totally blew my chance to actually get closer to my crush with my incurable clumsiness.

 

_“Well done, Marceline.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be uploaded on December 11.  
> Stay awesome.


	3. Bestie Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for all your nice feedback and all these lovely kudos!  
> I was really scared that the story wouldn't get much attention but I'm so happy about the response it's actually getting.
> 
> So, in this chapter we get a little glimpse of what Bonnibel really thinks about Marceline  
> And we have besties comforting each other, because that's what they're there for.

I unenthusiastically strum at the strings of my bass guitar, letting the sound resonate dully in the room. The vibrations it makes feel really soothing on my stomach.

“Marcy, stop sulking already!” Keila pleads and I can see nothing besides the pity in her eyes when she swirls around in her office chair like a super villain to look at my sorry state.

I sigh and hug my guitar closer to my chest. “I really wish I could but it’s hard not to. I fucked up, Keila. Fucked up big time.”

Something flies in my direction and lands directly on my face. It’s a package of ‘ _The_ _Candy Kingdom’s royal gummies’_ Keila has been working on. While I feel myself becoming rather sick reading that name, I notice that she only left the red ones over for me, which, of course, sends the corners of my lips curling upwards.

“Nothing’s over yet, doofus. You gonna sincerely apologize to her on monday and it’s gonna be fine,” Keila tries but I doubt merely apologizing will do.

“You didn’t see her, she was pissed. I fucked up, man. For the second time in a row. And you know what’s the worst? I **_had_ ** my wallet with me! It just was in the fucking glove box in my car!”  
That earns me a nasty snicker which then evolves into an even nastier and annoyingly loud laughter filling the whole room.

“Even the people at school are starting to talk about me again,” I admit sulkily, trying to tickle a little bit of compassion out of my supposedly best friend.

The bed sags down on my right side and suddenly Keila is lying right next to me, arms crossed behind her head.  
“Listen here, bestest friend in the world: I’m telling ya that there’s nothing you have to worry about. My stomach says so.”

I furrow my eyebrows questioningly while shoving a handful of gummy bears into my mouth. “You sure that's not just the candy talking there?”

Keila snorts and pats my head. “Don’t worry. It’s intuition, aaand it’s certainly been right in most cases. I mean, you did put a lot of effort into your apology, hm?” She eyes me, I can see that much out of the corners of my eyes.  
“Like it was supposed to be a _date_ ,” she teases and grins widely.

I groan in frustration and embarrassment, grabbing a pillow from behind me and slinging it on my face, hiding underneath it.

“I think she really appreciates that. You told me that she was even surprised at how much you thought everything through, didn’t you? Well, except the wallet part, apparently.”

There’s a moment of silence before I realize that Keila wants me to answer that. 

“Ugh, ywws. Shw dwid,” I confirm, words muffled under the cushion of the pillow.

“See? I’m pretty sure she’s gonna take that into account, ya know.”

I puff loudly and pull the pillow away from my face, letting a hand run through my dark locks.

“So, assuming that everything is good between us, as you say,” I begin and search for Keila’s face next to me, “what do you think should be the next step?”

She sucks her cheek in, making her look like a fish, eyes drifting upwards to stare at the ceiling in thought.

“I think you should talk to her more often. Go over to her when you see her at school, say hello and make some small talk.” Suddenly her face starts beaming as if someone just switched on a lightbulb in her head.

“Do you have her number?” She asks me expectantly and I shake my head.

“Jeez, Marcy,” she scolds and half-smiles in amusement, “then of course the next step is to get her number! You know how texting can be so much easier.”

I grumble because - yes, it’s a good idea, but, “how should I even ask for her number?”

“Marcy, Marcy, Marcy…” Keila shakes her head with a chuckle. “I’m sure there’s gonna be an opportunity soon. And if not, then hell, what is there to lose if you just go and ask for it?”

“My pride when she turns me down. Oh, and my dignity.”

“See? Nothing to lose, just as I said.”

That earned her a pillow to the face. The jerk just keeps laughing like that asshole she is, tumbling from the bed with a loud thud but she doesn’t seem to care about that either.

“And you’re supposed to be my friend, huh?” I snarl and hit her again but she’s still laughing. I grab one of her kicking legs, glad that I didn’t get hit in the face, and take off her sock.

“Marcy, **no**!! Stop it, don’t do that please!!” She’s begging now, trying to wriggle her foot free, but I’m merciless.

“Fuck you,” I say and start relentlessly tickling the sole of her foot, what makes her squirm and squeal and beg me to stop. “Mar...Marcyy…!! I can’t… Ple-haha, stop **IT**!” She’s totally out of breath now and I let go of her foot, which limply falls to the ground, causing Keila to yell in pain and surprise.

She tiredly tries to climb back onto the bed, breathing heavily. “You’re so mean...”  
“Look who’s talking,” I snort and roll my eyes.

When she’s back on the bed, she takes a few deep breaths and then smirks at me.  
“You know,” she begins, leaning in closer to me. I’m a bit wary about what she’s gonna do, so I shift away. “We could do something that will definitely cheer you up.” She suddenly jumps off  the bed and I’m wondering where the sudden burst of energy is coming from.

I also frown because I have no idea what she’s talking about.  
Until she heads for the other side of the room and retrieves her guitar from its stand.

“Oh yes, you’re the best, Kei,” I say with a big grin while I sit up and position my bass guitar correctly.

“Don’t you know it,” she says and plugs her guitar in. “Let's rock.”

 

«♣»«♣»

 

“Sooo,” Lady plumped down into the pink beanie bag by the window of Bonnibel’s insanely huge room, eyeing her friend curiously, “how did your _‘date’_ go?”

Bonnibel almost dropped the tray with their selfmade lemonade on it, not having anticipated that kind of evaluation of yesterday's event from her friend.

“Wh-what? Tha-that! That wasn’t a date, Lady!” She spluttered and put the tray on her desk, taking two glasses in each hand, blushing furiously.

“I know, I know. Just kidding,” Lady chuckled and happily took one of Bonnie’s lemonade from her hand while the latter stood in the middle of the girly room with an embarrassed expression across her face, giving Lady enough clues to find the truth in between the lines.

“But you wish it would’ve been a date, don’t you?” Lady suddenly added, what made Bubblegum spit out her drink from which she had taken a sip just seconds ago and cough up the few drops that had gotten into her air pipe.

“ _Why the hell_ would you think that?!” Bonnie was now seriously bewildered as to how her friend could possibly come up with that assumption.

Lady just clicked her tongue knowingly and furrowed her eyebrows, “Bubblegum, I’ve known you since kindergarten. I do know that she is totally your type,” Bonnibel blushed even more at that, “lanky, tall, jet black hair - come on she’s gorgeous.”

“She dresses like an emo... Or... or punk... Or... well, I don’t know!” She threw her arms up in frustration.  “She looks like a delinquent.”

Her best friend sighed in amusement, “Now you’re just making up excuses. Don’t try to bad-mouth something you clearly have a thing for,” she then winked at Bubblegum who hid her blushing face behind her unoccupied hand.

Was that true? Did she have a “thing” for rebellious looking girls with attitude?  
  
“And I could see it in your eyes when we confronted her in the hallway. That interested sparkle when you saw her, it was _so_ obvious! Also, you would have never ever usually said yes to someone inviting you to ‘ _coffee_ ’. That's something that only happens in fanfiction.”

Bonnie perked up at that observation but stayed quiet all the same. She clasped her glass tightly, being angry at her body to have deceived and given her away. Because apparently, she did have a thing for punk rockers with leather boots that could easily crush your skull under their sole and hair that was so black it seemed to absorb any light shining on it.

“So, what did you two do again? You went to Tree Trunks? That’s a really nice place. Are you sure it wasn’t a date?”

“Totally not.” She wasn't so sure about that, but she just couldn't imagine Marceline initiating something as intimate as a date with her after her original intention being a mere apology.  
Still, she couldn't deny that it had felt pretty intimate. And really nice at that.

“Also, I had to pay! “ Bonnie then snapped, still unnerved about the whole disaster in the end, while also frantically searching for a reason to nullify her friend’s implication. “It was so expensive. And I even left a huge tip.”

Lady gave her a look. “You said it was an accident and that she forgot her wallet.”  
“Well, that’s what she’s saying but who knows if it’s true. First she spills milk all over me and then she makes me pay for her food! Also, didn’t Jake say she’s bad news? Maybe she’s just using me! Next she will be using me to get better grades,” Bonnie rambled on without taking time to take a breath.  
“ _Bubblegum_ ,” Lady interrupted her sharply, “we don’t know her. She did seem sincerely sorry when she told you that she forgot her wallet, right? Also, you’re giving private lessons as a tutor, so don’t make it seem like it would be that weird if she came to you for help.”

There was a pause.

  
“Well, yes, she looked really uncomfortable and _I know_ that I’m a tutor, thanks. But mayb-”  
  
“Shush. You did have fun with her though, right?” Lady questioned her friend further and Bonnie groaned in defeat.

“Yes, yes. I had fun, she’s nice, gorgeous and a dork. But Lady, this... This is all too much! Assuming that she is indeed interested in girls, why would she even like me? All I’ve done so far was yell at her or be snappy. She just wanted to be nice and I only want to see the bad things in her. I don’t want to like her like that, because… because…”

She was looking at Lady for help to put into words what she was feeling. Usually her friend was the one to find the most accurate words for her predicaments.

“You don’t want your feelings to get hurt if she’s not interested in you,” Lady explained,” But now you feel bad for being so rude to her, because it will also reduce your chance of getting along with her. You want to spend time with her but at the same time you’re afraid that she feels different about that and you don’t want to be disappointed. So you push her away.”

Bonnie was at a loss for words and could only gesture towards her friend and nodded in approval.

“It’s so contradictory! I want to be involved with her, but I also don’t because I’m scared she will not feel the same for me in the end. All I really want is her to like me ever since I noticed her in chemistry class. Is… isn’t that just awfully selfish?”

Her friend reassuringly shook her head at that, “Being selfish is totally normal, Bubblegum. We’re all selfish and that’s fine, it’s in our nature. No one wants their feelings to get hurt. And you certainly didn't make the best experiences in the past in that regard. You're just protecting yourself.”

Bubblegum let her shoulders fall in exhaustion and slumped down right next to her kindergarten friend.  
“I've been a total asshole to her, though. She probably thinks I hate her.”

Lady chuckled uncomfortably, which didn't go unnoticed by the aggravated Bonnibel.  
She shot her friend an inquiring glare which would have translated to _“you better spit out what you were thinking just now.”_ Her friend just coughed, even more uncomfortable than before and tried to avoid direct eye contact with her best friend.

“Well, Bubblegum…  Ugh, how do I say this…” Lady fumbled with her words, trying to find the right phrasing to break the “news” gently, “most people kinda get the feeling that you don’t like them, you know?”

“What do you mean?” the other girl asked, honestly not getting what her friend was cautiously implying.

“Well,.... Well… you strike some people as... Extremely confident?”

Now it clicked in Bubblegum’s head, “You mean _‘arrogant’_ , don’t you?”  
The now butt-hurt, very self-confident woman flicked her hair theatrically over her shoulder as if to express just how absurd that sounded.

“I’m sorry that my parents raised me to have some confidence in my talents and therefore myself and what I’m doing. However, I find myself being genuinely nice to people that respect me, which makes me also respect them in return. People that I call my friends. I mean, I am being nice to you, right?” she asked,honestly wanting an answer from Lady, who was a bit taken aback but also felt her fear from earlier affirmed by that sudden outburst.

Lady exhaled deeply after having stopped breathing during that small rant.  
Then her eyes turned soft and she flashed her best friend a reassuring smile, “Yes, don’t worry, Bubblegum. You have one of the kindest hearts I’ve ever come into contact with.”

That made her friend relax visibly.

“Still,” and suddenly, Bubblegum tensed up again, fearing what her kindergarten friend would say next, “sometimes the other students are a bit… intimidated by that, you see? Not everyone - hell - not even half of the other students have as much confidence as you do. We’re all in that phase of our life where we slowly figure out what the hell we’re even supposed to be doing with ourselves at the moment.  Because not all of us have everything already figured out like you do...”

Of course, Bonnibel understood that, and all of a sudden she was reminded of something that Marceline had said to her the previous day.

“Do you know what kind of nickname she gave me?” she rhetorically asked her best friend with an underlying tone of indignation.  
“Well, spill the beans,” Lady urged her, eager to hear it.

“' _P_ _rincess Bubblegum’_ . And after that she said - _to my face_ \- that I am arrogant and stuck up. So, she thinks that nickname really suits me.” She furrowed her eyebrows.  
“Wow, my crush thinks I’m a stuck up bitch.”

“Princess Bubblegum?” Lady repeated, not being able to hide the very amused smirk on her face, “I kinda like that nickname for you,” she confessed, which earned her an angry glare.

“Hey, but don’t worry. _‘Down but not out’,_ is what I would say. Just try to be a little bit nicer to her from now on, if it bothers you that much. She sounds like a honest and nice person - except the stuck up and arrogant part directly in your face - but you shouldn’t just push her away like that. She did wait two hours after school just for you and she really put some thought into her ' _apology '_.”

Bonnibel sighed, “I can’t let my crush intervene too much in my life, though, Lady. I have so many things to work on. And then there’s still the fact that she might think I’m weird or disgusting when she finds out that I like her _that way_.”

“Now, let’s not let that discourage you. You don’t even know her that much, and what you know about her makes you like that girl even more. Tomorrow will be a new day with new possibilities, so let’s look forward to that and let us find a way to gain your crush's heart,” Lady exclaimed with an assuring wink.

Bubblegum returned the gesture with a smile and they both fell into a more or less comfortable silence.

“The lemonade tastes really good, by the way. Is that a new recipe?” Lady broke the quiet after a few minutes, hoping to shift the conversation to a more comfortable topic for Bubblegum. “Yes, it is! Oh, I’m glad that you like it. I’ve been working on it all week. Can you guess the flavors?” It was as if someone had replaced the Bonnibel from just a minute ago with a totally different person.

The Bonnibel now had sparkling eyes and was almost close enough to be invading Lady’s preferred personal space - even between friends.

Her childhood friend, however, gladly accepted the challenge - a thing they have been doing ever since Bubblegum came up with her own extraordinary recipes for food or beverages.

“Hmm…,” Lady took another sip and now carefully concentrated on the flavor spreading across her tongue. “I’m not exactly sure… Could be toffee? But then also… Marshmellow?”

“Bingo! Oh, I’m so glad that you figured it out. That means my formula guarantees an unaltered flavor of both. It’s so hard to find a way to make it taste just like the real th-”

“Uuhh, Bubblegum, it’s nice but… my tongue isss… mwy twongue... Cwan’t fweel it..” A look of panic crossed Lady’s face as her control over her tongue just... Vanished.

“Oh, sugar honey iced tea!” Bonnibel groaned angrily, annoyed by that obvious failure. “That means I still have to work on alterations that do not overexert the taste buds. And here I thought that I was finally finished! That throws me way behind my deadline-”

“Ughh,” gurgled the still panicky Lady, trying to interrupt Bonnie’s train of thought to helplessly gain back her attention.

“Oh, yeah, right! Don’t worry Lady, this is not permanent,”  ‘ _I hope it is not’_ , she sheepishly added in her mind, “It will go away in an hour... Or so.”

And while this didn’t really help Lady calm down at all, Bubblegum was already making mental notes to pull all-nighters throughout the week, starting today to not be overstepping her set deadline, while pushing every thought about Marceline and the accompanying guilt far far away in a dark corner of her subconsciousness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be uploaded on New Year's Day!  
> I wish all of you a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year, and then on Janurary 1st, 2018 we will start the year with the best fanfic ever written! (I'm kidding)
> 
> To give you a small teaser, the next chapter is called "This Girl is on Fire", and hell, you will need the song. And take the title literally.


	4. This Girl is on Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, you guys!  
> I truly hope you had a better start into the new year than myself, as I am suffering from glandular fever and had to spent the days before Christmas and then right after Christmas in the hospital.  
> But I got home right before New Year's Eve, so it was fine, really. 
> 
> I'm really happy to tell you that NONE of you guessed right as to whom the title of this chapter may concern. I'm gonna enlighten you now. Enjoy
> 
> (... and please use the song at "Hey, dude, do you smell something burning too?")

When I woke up this morning, I just knew that this day was gonna be shit.

Seriously, I can feel these bad vibes in my bones, in my stomach, in my fingertips - every-fucking-where.

I feel like an animal in the woods, sensing a particularly bad storm. Only that I don’t have a hideout that will keep me safe.

No, I’m out there in the wild, all by myself, and going to be swallowed by its whole intensity.

For clarification, that storm is called Bubblegum - or Bonnibel, as I amusingly got to know a few days ago -  and also _guilt_.

I actually thought that - for once in my life - everything was gonna go perfectly fine and just according to plan; that I would finally be able to kind of impress my crush by how much I care about her with putting so much effort into my apology.

But no.

Life somehow doesn’t even give me lemons anymore, it’s squishing them directly into my eyes instead.

The money in my jeans pocket is already crumbled and soaked with the sweat of my palms where I’d been holding it before I made my way to school.

Of course, I will give her the money back. What did you think?

But I’m really fucking scared about it. Mostly I'm scared of confronting her again after that whole disaster. Will she accept my apology _again?  
_ I’ll have to find that out in only a few minutes, because the first class this morning is also the surely most endearing - chemistry. Which we all know is Bonnibel’s favorite subject. And that's where I will have to face her.

Glob, I feel so ridiculous.

I warily get closer to the corner of the hall because when going to the science classroom, I will have to pass her locker and I’m not ready to face her just yet - nope, I’m gonna wait until I’m trapped in the stuffy, stale, sterile and always kinda like onion-smelling lab and there’s no escaping her.

_“Please don't be there, please don't be there, please…”_

The coast is clear, thank Glob. 

But that means I'm only a few more steps away from her nonetheless, since that nerd is _always_ the first one to be sitting in the classroom.

Seriously Marceline, why in the world are you even crushing on one of the biggest science fetishists at your school? Like, you don't even care about science.

Well, I know the answer. Bonnibel is passionate. Just like I am when it comes to music. And she's kinda cute. Obnoxious, but cute, especially when she has to present  experiments in class - which is also almost the only time I ever pay attention. She's, like, the teacher’s henchman, who really loves her ambitions for chemistry. Which then also makes it obvious who his favorite student is. Also - if not really that surprising - but when we have to write a test about a topic that Bonnibel had presented, I always got a better grade than usual.

The only downside is that my teacher thinks I'm cheating. Well, that's at least better for my reputation than him finding out the pattern of my grades and the cause of it.

The walk to the science lab feels like an eternity all of a sudden and I can feel the money in my pocket becoming heavier with the tons of guilt attached to it.

When I finally reach the doorway to my _“beloved”_ science room, I take a last deep breath and clench the money - now buried in my hand again - harder.

_“You've got this.”_

I enter the room, scrunching my nose at the onion-stench, and let my eyes wander over the various tables and chairs.

Then I spot her and my heart suddenly feels like a really heavy rock beating against my chest.  
She is sitting in the farthest corner of the room. Which is unusual, I note.

Again, I take a deep breath and shakily make my way over to her.

When I finally stand right in front of her desk, I already prepare myself to recite the apology I have arranged the night before, so I wouldn’t start rambling like an idiot like I had the previous days.

However, just now upon closer examination, I can see that she’s lying face-down on the table. And… is snoring?

“Uuhh, Bonnie…?” I faintly whisper, because I don’t want to scare her awake in case she’s actually asleep.

That proves to be to no avail as my crush just continues to doze on rather loudly.

I have to admit that I find that whole picture of her sleeping soundly here on that desk in the science room pretty cute. But I also wonder what had her obviously spending the night more awake than asleep.

I wanna try to wake her up again, this time slightly touching Bonnie’s exposed shoulder because her shirt had slipped down a little to shake her softly. Her skin feels soft and warm under my hand, and suddenly I feel like a fucking creep, so I jerk it away again as if I had suddenly burned my fingers. I look around and thank glob that we’re still alone.

The girl grunts, seemingly annoyed at her interrupted sleep, but it takes a little bit longer to finally make her lift her head off the table.

“W-wha… Marshmeline….?” Bonnibel asks, confused. I have to suppress a snort at that stupid nickname and when I detect a piece of paper attached to her cheek and the little bit of drool running down her chin.

“Long night?” I teasingly ask in return. Bonnie is now looking around, even more perplexed, and takes in her surroundings. After that, her eyes almost pop out of her head and she practically rips the paper off her cheek, inspecting it briefly before finally eyeing me with a shocked expression.

“How long was I out?? Did I sleep through class?!” she panics and I snort, more than entertained by her straight-A-student behavior, the uneasiness of my prior quest subsiding all at once.

“Don’t worry, _sleeping beauty_ . Class hasn’t even started yet,” I reassure her with a smug smile and an eye roll. She, however, immediately turned her head away when the name _‘sleeping beauty’_ left my lips. Was she… flustered or something?

Nah, let’s not read too much into it.

“Thank glob,” she sighs in relief and I notice that the trail of drool is still evident on her chin.

Being the helpful person I am, I don’t get around to not tell her. 

“You have something on your face… right there,” I point at my chin to show her where she has to look.

As she comes into contact with her own spit, she hurriedly swipes her chin clean with the sleeve of her pink sweater, seemingly more flustered than before. This makes me grin even wider, because her flustered face and the few hairs standing up in every direction from her head make her look like a really helpless, little nerd. 

However, in reality, I don’t have anything to grin for. Actually I should be feeling super bad and awkward after Friday's events, and not amused and light-hearted at the sight of a rattled Bonnibel.

I convince myself that it’s smarter to approach her about what happened on Friday right now instead of wasting the good atmosphere.

“So, listen…,” I begin and swallow hard, because I already know this is gonna be awkward and humiliating, and even the moment I will probably lose any chance to get closer to my crush, but here goes nothing.

“About Friday. I’m really, really sorry that you had to pay, even though it was my rightful duty to do so.”

Meanwhile, Bonnie is storing her piece of paper in her bag and doesn’t even look at me at all, but that doesn’t discourage me. I really need to get this off my chest, “I really did forget my wallet, you know. Well, at least I thought so. Turns out that I forgot that I put it in my car, silly me, haha,” I nervously chuckle. The Princess is now facing me with a frown on her face, and I’m absolutely not sure what that means.

“Anyway, I’m really sorry that the day had to end like this. Here is the money I owe you. Don’t worry, I also considered the tip you left, of course.” I awkwardly put the money on the desk, hoping that Bonnibel doesn’t notice how I am slightly trembling and how soaked the money already is.

She just takes everything in without saying a word and then proceeds to stare at the money.

“So, yeah I'm sorry and I get it when you don’t want anything to do with me. Just… let me tell you that I really enjoyed myself on Friday.” I let the last sentence linger a little bit longer in the air before proceeding, “So, yeah. I will be going n-”

“You forgot that your wallet was in your car?”

My head jerks up at the question, and I take notice that Bonnibel is looking back at me with two raised eyebrows now.

“Ugh, yes,” I admit, scratching my neck where the two spots representing my “bitemarks” are.

“Pfft,” and then all of a sudden, she breaks into a fit of laughter.

I can only stare at her, confused, perplexed, relieved? I don’t know what to feel, to be honest.

“You sure are something, Marceline!” she then says as her laughter slowly dies down.

I just stand there, mouth opening and closing like that of a fish. “ _Whaaa_..…?” I whisper to myself, not getting what’s going on right now. Did Bonnie lose her mind? Was she going crazy? Or is this simply the result of her lack of sleep?

“I know I acted like a… Well - _you know what -_ on Friday. I shouldn't have done that after you put so much effort into your apology.”

I can feel my jaw drop exactly 5 feet and 10 inches to the ground.

“I see that you truly are sorry and not playing me or something of the like. So, we are good.” She also flashes me a kind smile, and I feel as if I’m not worthy of that at all. As if a divine being just showed me mercy after I did something utterly disgraceful.  What is even going on right now?

“And you can have that back as well. It’s fine. I have enough of that already.” She even pushes the money back toward me, and I pinch myself in the arm to see if this is still a dream.

 

It isn’t.

 

I passively take the money back, not really able to process the sudden change in Bonnie’s attitude.

“Is this some kind of revenge plan?” I make sure, the words leaving my mouth before I can stop them.

“What? **No!** ” she yells angrily at that accusation and I immediately feel bad about that slip of my tongue.

“I’m being sincere here.”

Then her tone becomes softer, “Really, don’t worry about it anymore. I came to realization that I treated you kind of unfairly. We are good now,” and then she adds somewhat dejectedly and quieter, “well, only if you still want us to be, of course.”

“Of course!” I hurriedly fight all of her negative thoughts about me not wanting to have anything to do with her and then I cough awkwardly, trying to cover up my overexcited and embarrassing reaction. "I mean, sure. Would be cool." 

I gain a genuine, yet still doubtful smile from her this time. At the same time, I take in that the classroom is now brimming with students, which means classes are about to start soon.

“Well, see ya ‘round?” I ask, gesturing toward my table a little bit awkwardly, when Bonnibel suddenly taps the chair next to her.

“Would you mind sitting with me?”

I feel a familiar warmth that I could really get used to spread through my whole body and feel my face contort into a really big smile, which I try to cover up as a smug grin.

“‘Course not,” I retort, feeling myself return to a more comfortable state around her than before and working on maintaining my cool facade whereas I'm almost exploding from the inside.

How could all the bullshit that happened last week possibly lead to this?  How could _all this_ lead to my crush acknowledging me and asking me to sit with her after she hadn’t even noticed me until a week ago?  What witchcraft has made this possible?

Maybe Keila’s gut-feeling truly was something otherworldly.

“Maybe now I will get straight A’s in chemistry,” I jokingly say and sit down, beaming like the sun, five billion years from now.

Bonnibel just frowns at me and I believe I saw her whisper “ _I knew it”_ to herself or something along the lines.

“I’m just joking, okay?” I make sure that she understands that I’m not being serious about misusing her for better grades.

“We will see,” she replies and smirks at me defiantly, which takes me off-guard.

“Heh,” I smirk back at her, “the game is on, _princess_.” The face she makes at that name is, again, just too priceless. She scrunches her nose as if she’s smelling something really bad, looks around, and then bites back, “Don’t call me that in front of others!”

“Whatever, princess,” I continue teasing her shamelessly, but then class begins and the princess simply “shushes” me to keep quiet.

I have to roll my eyes at that but at the same time I find it adorable how eagerly she wants to listen to the teacher.

After our teacher checked the attendance, he proceeds to introduce us to a new topic that he wants to begin with a few experiments. I groan, because I hate experiments and my group is _always_ fucking something up. But then I realize that there’s no reason to worry at all. I’m sitting next to my crush after all, and guess what she is - the science genius!

However, I can’t help myself and give her a little fair warning in advance, “I’m reaaally not good at experimenting, so you could help me, right?” I try to do the puppy eyes, but apparently that isn’t even needed because Bonnibel simply answers, “It’s fine, you can just protocol the experiment and I will actually conduct it.”  

I notice how she is rubbing at her eyes and that she looks even more tired than before. I bring myself to not make an unnecessary teasing comment and just get up to retrieve all the stuff we need for the experiment.

After everything is set in place, we both tie our hair to ponytails because we will have to experiment with an open flame.

I look at my crush when we are ready to start and realize that she appears more lethargic with every passing minute.

Man, did she party all weekend or something? Kinda makes me jealous because I want to know what she’s like partying. Does she drink much? Does she drink at all? Is she, like, a secret party animal?

Have to find that out, I guess.

“Can you turn on the burner please?” Bonnie asks and hides a yawn behind her hand. I obey her like a minion, because I want to make a good impression. Then I take out pen and paper - again for a good impression - and watch her perform the experiment as if it was child’s play.

Meanwhile, I can feel a rather pressing matter making itself present down _there_.

“Hey, would you mind if I go to the bathroom real quick?” I ask her about ten minutes in, not wanting to be a bother or the like for leaving.

Bonnie yawns again.

“No, it’s fine. But turn the burner off before you leave, okay?”

“Aye, ma’am,” I salute and do as I was told before leaving to mind my own business.

On the way to the bathroom I go over everything that has happened so far this morning.

This oh so beautiful and amazing morning. Has there ever even been a better morning in my life?

After relieving myself, I go back to the classroom, humming a stupid love song that suddenly creeped its way into my head.

Every step I take feels like I’m walking on really bouncy ground, but that’s just the happiness soaring through my whole body, I guess. Now that all the stupid stuff from last week is out of the way, I can finally try to spend some quality time with my crush.

Could this morning possibly become even better?

I return to my seat with a content smile placed on my lips and still the same stupid love song going through my head.

I sneak a peek at Bonnie, who - to my utmost surprise - seems to be half-asleep again. That is not very likely of her, but I guess she could use some rest, so I let her be. She knows every answer anyway if the teacher should ask us anything.

I take notice that during the time I’d been gone, Bonnie had completed the protocol, too. Now I feel a little useless but I guess she couldn't help it.

“Hey, dude, do you smell something burning too?” one of the guys in front of our desk asks his neighbor suddenly.

“Yeah, smells like chicken,” his neighbor replies.

Something burning? I sniff around myself. 

Yes, there is definitely something burning here.

It must be pretty close even, as the stench was pretty heavy where I was sitting. I pry around, searching for the idiot who let something catch on fire.

“Oh shiiit!!!” One of the boys suddenly jumps up from his seat and points at something in my direction-  
“Bubblegum is burning!!”

Wait, what? I turn to the side to look at my crush, expecting her to sleep, all safe and sound. However, what I see instead is my crush with her hair ablaze, transforming her into a human candle.

 

Wait, **_WHAT?!_ **

 

“The blanket!! The blanket!!” I can hear someone screeching from across the classroom that was now in a big turmoil. People are screaming, running around, and all I can do is think about the lyrics to _“This Girl is on Fire”_ as I watch, dumbfounded, how my crush turns into a humanoid flame.

 

What the hell is wrong with me??! My crush is fucking burning!!!

 

“Bonnie, wake the hell up!!! You are on motherfucking fire!!” I scream, and in that moment, the fire alarm goes off as well as the sprinklers in the science room. My teacher rushes past me and retrieves the emergency blanket from the first-aid kit.

Because of all the noise and panic Bonnibel finally seems to be waking up, apparently still unaware of the bonfire creeping up her head.

As she finally realizes what the hell is going on, she starts to scream, which is immediately muffled by a blanket wrapped around her head.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this!” My teacher yells heroically, picking Bonnibel up bridal-style.

I can only stand there, speechless, as the sprinklers ruthlessly soak my clothes.

“Are you okay, Bubblegum?!” my teacher asks the now defunct human candle, and my heart skips a beat when I can see Bonnie nodding, but absolutely shook as I can read from her facial expression of shock and speechlessness.

I wonder… did I accidentally leave the burner on?! Oh my Glob, did I almost burn my crush to death?!

My train of thought is stopped as I’m being dragged out of the classroom by the crowd moving to the assembly point outside school for these kind of scenarios that should actually never happen in real life.

I lose sight of Bonnie, but I’m sure the teacher is taking care of her. I want to call out to her though, ask her if she’s alright, well, at least as alright as she can be.

As I understand that I have simply not a chance to get to her at the moment, I give in and follow the crowd outside, but not without typing a text to Kei.

_“Dude, I think I just set my crush on fire.”_


	5. Prepare for Trouble, and Make it Double

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say thanks for all the kudos and comments so far!  
> I know that this fic can't possible keep up with the very good fanfics at the moment and I hope you excuse my writing as I'm still in the process of learning English (my native tongue is German btw, it will also come into play in this fic)  
> So, on we go! Some revelations and an awful lot of foreshadowing in this chapter. Get ready for Marceline's maybe mysterious and dark past.

One week after that burner incident, walking down the hallway of the school feels like a cat-walk straight to hell. Everywhere I pass by, no matter if freshman, sophomore or senior, everyone is staring at me with the same look in their eyes: _“That fucking maniac burned the school’s top science student to ashes. Dangerous freak.”_

While on the one hand, even more students seem to be avoiding me now because they are scared that the same unfortunate and _one hundred percent accidental_ thing could happen to them too - which is a good thing in my opinion, since I hate most of these fucking losers anyway - this event also had an effect on them which was absolutely not wanted from me:

Everyone knew about me again, and everyone was talking about me again.

It’s been like that for a whole week.

You see, I can deal with a lot of things and I don’t get offended easily, but high schoolers are _savage._ Even someone as laid-back as me is irritated when the gossip settles on the same topic every day for a week and centers around _yourself._  And of course everyone knows better than the other about what happened about a week ago.

“ _That's the bitch that almost killed Bubblegum._ ”  
_“She's already had a reputation, but this time it's gone too far. Wonder when Abafreak’s going to be expelled?”  
“Don't get too close to her or she will curse you with her vampire powers! Bubblegum was the first and you will be next if you're not careful!_ ”

The super religious even started to pass garlic necklaces around again. Fun fact: Ironically, I'm allergic to garlic.

All the fun aside, I know that I've been in a lot of trouble in the past, but this time it's actually having an effect on me since Bonnibel is my _crush_. How would you feel if you were responsible for supposedly setting your crush on fire?

Yeah, see.

So, summing up my week, it's been the worst guilt trip of my life with various voices coming from every corner of the school underlining how horrible and dangerous I am. At one point you just start to believe in it yourself even if a small portion of you still thinks that _maybe it wasn't even my fault._

But somewhere around two days ago, this voice was completely overshadowed by these constant accusations coming from literally everyone at this school.

I sigh heavily as I open my locker to retrieve the history book for my next class and relax my head against the cold metal of its door to ease the pounding headache that’s invaded my head a few days prior.  

 _“You have to play it cool, no one needs to know how much this affects you or your reputation will experience its death blow._ ”

I have the feeling that about two weeks ago, my guardian angel was either assassinated or a different entity had begun to turn my life into a really pathetic soap opera - or even worse - really bad fanfiction.

Why can't I be in a normal, cliché one where I fall in love with my crush and we both realize that we feel the same for each other and then there's a happy end? I guess that's just not how real life works. That’s never how it works.

“Ugh,” I groan a last time and slam my locker shut, just to be scared shitless when a person suddenly appears from behind it, staring at me.  
“ _FUCK_ me!” I scream against my will and flinch together like a little girl at this surprise attack.

Next, all I feel is a wave of surprise wash over my senses and almost drowning my sanity under its impact, because standing there and apparently wanting to talk to me is no-one less than Bonnibel. Although she looks a little taken aback after my unintentional and inappropriate invitation to bang me.

“Bonnie!” I call out, playing down my embarrassment and anxiety about her presence, and notice her change in appearance almost immediately after. “You… Your hair, it’s shorter,” I deadpan and instantly regret mentioning her loss of hair of all things to say. It’s just that I’m really baffled having her want to talk to me apparently after almost accidentally killing her.

All around us whispering suddenly starts to pick up and there are eyes that shift their undivided attention to us, disgustingly curious as all of these people can be.

“Yeah, it is,” Bonnibel vanquishes the devilish whispering and touches her hair as if to make sure that it’s still shorter and ending just above her shoulders now. I expect her to be sad about what she finds instead of her long hair, but she appears to be unfazed, possibly even indifferent, which makes me curious.

However, I really want to apologize to her for supposedly setting her on fire the other day, but she acts faster and begins to speak first, “I know about the rumors. So I will make it short: It wasn't your fault.”

I expected different words to come out of her mouth after _‘I will make it short’_  and am dumbfounded when she reveals this new piece information to me.

This whole week, I had been living a lie.  
This whole week, I had been guilt-tripped into believing that I’d set my crush on fire when in reality, I hadn't!

To be honest, I knew it. I would never do something that stupid. I know I fucked up a lot of things but fucking up this hard seemed to be very unlikely even for me.

Nevertheless, a heavy weight lifts off my shoulders as if boulders that had been crushing me more and more every day had suddenly been taken off of me, and even if that won't actually stop the original rumor from circulating the school, this is just a minor problem to me right now, because now I know that it wasn’t my fault. And that’s all I needed for my monstrous headache to disappear in an instant.

“I thought that it could probably help you because I felt that the rumors are really intense at the moment and I felt bad when I heard them, knowing that it wasn’t you who was responsible for the whole fiasco,” Bonnibel continues, “You have quite the reputation, could that be? These people are talking very dirty behind your back, Marceline...” My crush inspects me with a lingering suspicion, her greyish-green and all-knowing eyes drifting up and down my figure, resulting in me feeling really exposed all of a sudden.

“That’s some bizz that doesn’t need to be brought back to daylight today. It’s things of the past,” I say as coolly as I can manage. My secrets have yet to be exposed.

Though, I know why she’s so perplexed about the whole situation and the whole school talking so bad about me behind my back.

Bonnibel came to our school exactly one year ago, because she had moved here from Germany. That’s at least what I’d heard. Now that she told me about her family’s business, I’m pretty sure that it could have had something to do with that.

So, considering this, she can’t possibly know about all the things that happened in my sophomore prime-time. Which might be better this way, to be completely honest.

“So, what set you hair on fire then?” I ask before Bonnibel can lure me into revealing my dark and mysterious past with her green, observant and seducing eyes.

The girl just peevishly sucks her lip in in return as if the next part is hard to admit for her, “I did so myself, on accident. I may or may not have fallen asleep while you were gone, leaving the burner on.”

“Pfffsshh,” I snort and then try to stifle my laughter behind my fist because the others are still looking and I don’t want another rumor to go around school of me making fun of Bonnibel or the sort. And I don’t think it would be morally acceptable for me to laugh at such a thing either after such an accident.

“It actually happens quite often to me,” the science nerd cuts through my silent amusement, stopping the grin behind the back of my hand immediately. “Luckily, this time it only took my extensions. I never thought they could be life-savers.” She again touches her hair, although I think she does it subconsciously this time.

Shocked by this revelation, I ask her, “This happens to you frequently? What... kind of nerd _are_ you?”

At that, Bonnibel crosses her arms and raises her chin, “I’m not a _nerd_ ,” she drags the word out with rejection, “I’m a scientist. Isn’t it normal for scientists to conduct experiments in their free time?”

“Suuure, that’s totally normal for a high schooler, _Fran-ken-stein_ ,” I reply ironically and drag out the _Frankenstein_ in return if _nerd_ doesn’t suit her.

Frankenstein tilts her head with a frown plastered on her small face, “You are the first person to use that reference correctly.”

“Seems I’m not as dumb as you thought,” I remark with a feigned hint of butthurtness and turn around to walk to my class when the bell rings, piercingly and annoyingly loud since it’s placed right above my locker for whatever stupid reason.

“I never thought that you were dumb!” Bonnie calls after me and turns in the other direction to walk to her class.

But then I suddenly remember my conversation with Kei a week ago and hastily run after her, not wanting to let the opportunity slip again this time.

“Wait a sec,” I say, grabbing her elbow through her pink sweater and blush slightly when she spins around on her heels and is suddenly really close to me.   
Like my-nose-almost-touching-her-nose close.

“Err…,” I try to put into words what I wanted from her, but my mind is washed blank all of a sudden.   
“Yeah?” she asks back with confusion evident on her face and a nervous glance behind her back because there’s not much time left until classes start and I bet she doesn’t want to be late.

Then our eyes lock and I don’t get myself to move them away. Bonnibel’s eyes represent a whole other universe of green and grey, orbiting around a massive black hole that seems to absorb my very sanity. I feel my breath hitch and my mouth hanging open against my will. Bonnie doesn’t turn away either.

Feeling sweat form in my palm where I’m holding Bonnibel’s arm, I force myself to blink to free myself from her gaze.  
I regain my composure and then ask her, a little breathless and awkwardly, what Keila suggested the weekend ago, “I just wanted to ask if I could have your number?”

Bonnibel suddenly beams at me, and I think it’s one of the first entirely positive reactions I could get out of her.  
“Of course,” she says cheerily and pulls out a sticky note and a pen, leaning against my locker to write down her number which she hands me with the words, “There you go,” before turning around and walking down the hall.  And, pinch me if I’m wrong, but I think I saw her winking at me just now.

Seconds later, I inspect the note in my hand just to find a bunch of numbers on it, unsurprisingly, but shake my head at the old-fashioned way of exchanging numbers. A sticky note and a pen, who does that anymore?

“Pfft.”

As I start walking to my history class, I notice the group of people still standing nearby that has watched us this whole time. They start to pretend that they haven’t listened in on our conversation at all but the spark in their eyes to catch new gossip fuel is more than obvious to me.

“What the fuck are you looking at, losers?” I spit and take a big, intimidating leap toward them which makes them instantly scatter across the school like the swarm of cockroaches that they are.

I smile triumphantly to myself.

Well, that is until a voice behind me calls my name.

 

“Abadeer.”

 

I don’t even need to turn around to know that I’m _fucked._

“My office. MhhhNooooww!”

 

«♣»«♣»

 

At lunch, Bonnibel hurriedly found her way to her friends, avoiding all the curious glances she gained from the other students as best as she could.  
However, most of the glares probably went past her anyway since all that was on her mind was the brief encounter with Marceline a few hours prior.

“Bubblegum, you’re back!” the cheerful voice of Finn, a young boy one year under her with long, blond hair tied together and hidden under his trademark white beanie, reached her and pulled her back to reality and away from her mental image of Marceline’s emerald green eyes that absolutely didn't make her head spin earlier that day.  
“Oh, hey Finn! Yes, I am finally back.” She put on a polite smile before sitting down next to her best friend, Lady.

“She probably couldn’t even wait to get back to school, that nerd,” Jake, Finn’s older brother and Lady’s boyfriend, said mockingly and the table erupted into friendly snickers.  
“Ha-ha, Jake,” Bonnibel bit back sarcastically, even though what he had said was absolutely true. Of course she enjoyed the normal high school life, something she had experienced so rarely in her short lifetime. But her friends were not aware of that, since she didn’t want to bore them with her personal problems nor did she think that it was of any interest to them what kind of work her parent’s business meant for her.

Still, she really had taken all these people to her heart in the course of the last year - with the exception of Lady that she’s known since kindergarten - and she was relieved to know that she would spend the last year of high school with them as well, not having to move places again as her parents wanted her to finish high school without stressing her out with their companies tight business schedule like they had done in the past.

“Your hair looks nice that way, Bubblegum. But I’m glad nothing serious happened to you,” Finn said with a gentle smile on his face, being the thoughtful guy he always was. Bonnibel felt flattered at his compliment but more politely so.  
“Thank you, Finn. The burner only set my extensions on fire, so nothing bad happened and it didn’t even damage my real hair at all. But, you know how awfully overprotective my parents can get. They didn't want me to go to school and insisted I stay home for the rest of the week.”

“I told you that extensions were a good idea,” Lady chimed in and grinned at her friend knowingly since she was the one that had talked her into getting some because such accidents apparently happened quite often to their favorite science nerd.

“I can’t believe that Marceline _bitch_ set your hair on fire.”

A chubby girl with heinously purple-colored hair suddenly plumped down at their table, letting her tray fall onto it harshly and spraying half its content on Finn’s lap in the process, which made the young boy growl annoyedly.

The mood shifted from cheerful to annoyed around the table, no one wanting to give the self-opinionated Leslie Sarah Parker - or shot _LSP_ \-  their undivided attention which the overbearing girl always demanded from everyone.

However, Bonnibel was having none of that obnoxious attitude that was so inherent in LSP, never having been fond of that girl since the very first time she had met her. “She didn’t set me on fire, _LSP_.” Her tone was sharp and for most of the people at the table really intimidating, but not for Leslie Sarah Parker. If anything, she took it as a cue for competition.

“Oh yeah? Are you really sure?” LSP asked provocatively, dueling Bonnibel in a fierce staring contest that had suddenly emerged between the two, “Marceline Abadeer is a dangerous, conceited bitch who would do anything just to be the center of attention. Trust me, I’ve known her for most of my life.”

Bonnie almost couldn’t believe her ears. It was as if LSP was talking about a totally different person. She barely knew Marceline but her first impression of her would suggest something totally else than her being an attention-whore, who LSP claimed her to be. And suddenly, Bonnibel had a really good idea about where that ridiculous rumor of Marceline setting her on fire originated from.

Lady shifted uncomfortably in her chair and nudged her boyfriend beside her in an attempt to get him to do something before the whole thing escalated between the two girls. Jake on the other hand, was swallowing his lunch like a madman as if someone would take it from him any minute, and seemed to be completely unaware of the tense situation at the table. Or he just pretended that he was, because after his girlfriend poked his sensitive side, he released a heavy breath and mumbled something to himself under his breath.

“Marceline didn’t do it, alright? She wasn’t even there when it happened, she was in the bathroom!” Bonnibel snapped, defending the girl that was slowly but surely turning her world upside down.

“What, to take a crap?” LSP snickered arrogantly, her last resort being childish remarks about a person’s personal business, which Bonnibel found hilariously pathetic.

“Okay, okay, okay. Girls, let’s calm down and think about some happy stuff, aight? Abadeer may or may not be a dangerous criminal, we don’t know her. Shouldn’t be talkin’ bad about a person we don’t know, right? And when Bubblegum says she didn’t set her on fire, then she didn’t. Period.” Jake fully gained the attention of his friends when he started his little speech - mostly because he was the oldest at the table and looked even older with his giant mustache and overall heavy built - appealing to everyone’s consciousness with his words. After he was done, he looked at his girlfriend to get her deserved approvement. Lady nodded proudly and gave him a quick peck on his cheek.

“Fine then,” LSP huffed and stood up, her chair squeaking disgustingly loud when it scratched across the floor, “you’ll see what you get when dealing with _Abafreak_.” And with that, she left the table, probably going off to spread more stupid gossip around school.

“Sheesh, she can be a handful at times,” Finn tried to play it down, still, everyone was relieved that the girl had left their table and slowly, the old, cheerful atmosphere returned.

The topic was dropped after that, and everyone started to talk about other high school things and upcoming events. Bonnibel, though, didn’t really listen at all, and just wondered to herself quietly when Marceline would make use of her phone number.

 

«♥»«♥»

 

The principal’s office holds a familiarity which I would like to forget about, actually.

The room looks just like I remember it. There is a big clock on the wall behind me with dark Roman numerals, its loud ticking sending my nerves on edge with every passing tick, showing me how much time I'm wasting sitting here. Besides that, there's a greyish file cabinet at the wall to the left, which contains several personal data of all the delicts ever committed at this school. A little, withered plant sits on top of it, neglected just like all the homework I've never done.

The biggest eye-catcher in the office is a big and expensive looking - well, as far as I can judge with my little expertise - oak desk in the middle of the room, with little to no personal stuff on it except for a metal pen holder and the black nameplate where the words “Principal Lemongrab” are flaunted in elegantly curved, golden letters. This nameplate alone seems to have cost at least half of the oak table, which perfectly represents our principal’s attitude of proudly presenting everything you can afford that others simply can't.

Well, maybe he needs to compensate for something in his lonely and sad life. And I don't think the reputation of most neurotic principal ever is the only thing he has to make up for.

The principal - “Lemonhead” as I used to call him, because his bald head and lack of eyebrows adding to his weirdly shaped forehead just make him look like _a fucking lemon -_ is sitting in his office chair opposite me, eyeing me thoroughly with his hands intervened and resting on the dark oak table.

“So… ‘Sup?” I ask after having withstood the awkward silence for long enough, not entirely sure what I did wrong to land me here.

“Don't _‘Sup’_ me, Abadeer!” the principal replies sharp-tongued.    
I puff my cheeks and put my hands up defensively. Definitely not in a good mood today, that old bastard.  
“Alright, sorry. But I just don't get why I'm here exactly. ”

There's again silence, uncomfortable, oppressing silence.  
However, I know what he's trying to do. This is some kind of method to intimidate and unsettle me so I will play by his rules to end this here as quickly as possible.  
But I know his little mind games, and I'm not gonna play along.

I cross my arms in front of my chest and lean forward provocatively but still without saying a word. I can wait as long as I need to, even if it has to be for the whole day.

“There are rumors,” he then speaks and lets that statement stand in the room for a bit.

“That you set a student on fire.”

“I didn-” I want to interject instantly, but the principal abruptly stands up and goes around the desk, positioning himself right next to me and resting a skinny hand on the back of my chair, leaving me no chance to flee.

“Of course,” he continues, his voice louder now,  “as a principal, I should not rely on rumors. So, I asked the affected student, who, in fact, told me that you weren't responsible for the _accident_ , so to speak. However,”  Now he’s leaning forward, his mouth inches away from my ear, “ _I thought that we had a deal._ ”

“Oh, we _do_ have a deal, principal Lemonhea-err, I mean, _Lemongrab_ ,” that was totally not-accidental.

“So, then why,” he speaks again and takes a long, ominous breath, “are the students talking about you again? And especially,” now he leans against the table, establishing strategic eye-contact with me, which I withstand, “Why. Are. They. Scared. Of. You?”

That’s enough. Is he seriously implying that I’m bullying all these shitheads again?  “Seriously, principal? This whole week, people have called me names that would make others want to hang themselves. And you know what the worst part is? It’s all lies. I would _never_ set another student on fire, not even I am _that_ sick. So, does this mean that others simply get to bully me and I have to take responsibility for some people getting scared of me because I’ve had enough of their endless web of lies they weave every day?”

With every word coming out of my mouth, the principal began to gnaw on his lips which then turns into him literally clenching his teeth so hard that I’m afraid they will burst every second.

“ _Our deal was_ that **you** keep a low profile and do not disturb our school grounds _ever again_. That also means that. There. Shouldn’t. Be. Rumors. About. You. Anymoooore! This situation is UNACCEPTABLEEEEE **!!** ”

I have to hold my ears shut because his nasty, penetrating voice would destroy my eardrums otherwise.

“ _Jesus,”_ I whisper to myself, rolling my eyes.  
“Well, _fine_ . Sorry about that but these rumors are not true! You shoulda at least give me credit for that, ya know?” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

The principal suddenly walks toward the file cabinet and slams his bare hand against one particular drawer at the bottom, making me flinch in my seat involuntarily and the plant on top of it shake violently. I don't want to lose this game, but it seems that I'm not on the winning side today.

“There is one drawer here that _only_ consists of **your** files, Abadeer. You can thank the Heavens that you aren’t expelled _yet_.”

As if there’s a whole drawer for me. Bullshit. I wasn’t _that_ bad.

“Or you better thank your father for all the negotiations we’ve been through and his generous sponsorship, all so that _you_ can stay in this school and even get all these extra wishes fulfilled.”  I just used my dad’s far-reaching connections and influence, so I’m basically playing the same games as the principal, who bought his stupid position into this school two years ago. I know about _all_ the dirty games being played here. And I know very well that the principal is aware of that, which is why I will always have something on him.

Also, my dad has never been a good dad in the first place, so I took it that he owed me something. Even if it means to have me take extra-curricular outside this school because it wouldn’t allow me to do anything with music without having to participate in a group of fucking losers. And not having to attend a stupid club of course, is also part of the deal. All so that I finally keep quiet and don’t molest anyone anymore.

Ha.Ha. Oh, look how the tables have turned.

“This will have serious consequences. I will inform you about your punishment at the end of the day, Ms Abadeer. Now, if you would please return to your class, you’re being late.”

What the **fuck** is he talking about? _Punishment_ for what?! For me being bullied!?

“Excuse me, I think I haven’t heard right? I’ve done nothing wrong for once, and am getting punished?!” I stand up, furious about this whole hypocrisy. What kind of fuck-shittery is this supposed to be?!

His stern face and the blue, fierce eyes piercing through my soul like ice picks, tell me that he’s not joking at all.  
“Stop arguing, Abadeer. And get out, mmhhhNOOOOW!”

And with that, I’m being pushed out the office and the door is slammed shut before my face.

Appears that I have lost the game this time.

 

«♣»«♣»

 

For the rest of the day, there is nothing else on my mind but the possible consequences awaiting me at the end of school.

Ever since that stupid principal _Lemonhead_ came to this school, it’s become absolute shit. I’ve never met a more difficult person to deal with - well, besides my dad, but that’s a story for later.

I’m even starting to chew on my fingernails again, which is definitely not a good sign.

I actually wanted to follow the deal and lie low this year, especially after Kei left this school. I mean, I don’t have anyone in here anymore since she left, and of course I know it would be suicidal to have everyone hate you when it means one against them all.

I also enjoy the privilege of not having to go to stupid sports clubs or whatever, and being able to indulge in my music by teaching some kids at an elementary school how to play guitar and read notes (even though that proved to be a pretty stupid idea because I don't even know what a freaking quaver is myself).This whole deal was also probably the only time my father has ever been useful to me.

Classes pass by and I’m not able to pay attention to any of them until lunch break finally frees me from the prison that is that school and I can sit outside and enjoy the last sunny days of summer.

What could the worst things to happen to me be?

Having to attend a club, I guess. I hate all of these people at this school, except for Bonnibel, obviously.

Cuz, you know, they are all so basic. Thinking about the same things, talking about the same things everyday like partying, how hot they find that guy or that girl and how they want to bang them so bad and submitting themselves to the boringness that is this awful school system that would never let you fully concentrate on your talents, if you even had any.

Except you’re really good at sports or a genius. Of course then you have that scholarship in your pocket, but god forbid you do something creative.   
Well, I’m not a genius, and I hate to participate in any kind of sport. It’s not that I’m not good at it, I just don’t want to play in a team with people I don’t like. With all these people being superficial as fuck, talking behind the backs of even their closest “friends”. That’s just so sick and I never really made sense of it. Friends are there to support each other, and not to make you feel better about yourself by talking them down and using them as some sort of doormat where you wipe you 100$ nike shoes on.

The second worst thing would be having to attend detention again. Because detention is just sitting in a boring room with 20 other students or so for god-knows how long and just vegetating, doing absolutely nothing at all. Being creative is forbidden there, trust me. I once wanted to write down some lyrics for a new song and straight-away got a chunk of chalk thrown against my head and three extra weeks of detention for nothing at all. It's better to keep quiet and just endure the torture. Or you figure out some ways to get around it.

I can suddenly feel my phone buzz in my pocket and pull it out immediately, surprised that someone would message me now.

It’s a message from Simon!

_“Meet me in my room in five. Looking forward to seeing you. :-)”_

I immediately make my way to his room, also eagerly wanting to see him again.

Simon and I have a special relationship. He teaches science and geography at this school, and I’ve never met a better teacher than him. He always manages to keep his students motivated, his eagerness and fascination for his subjects being extremely contagious. I’m really sad that I’m not in his chemistry class this year, but then again I wouldn’t have had the chance to get closer to Bonnibel.

Oh shit, Bonnibel! I totally forgot that she gave me her number. Oh man, how do I even start a conversation with her over _text_? Maybe Kei can help me with that later. There's just too many things on my mind right now.

When I arrive at Simon’s classroom, he’s sorting some papers at his desk and doesn’t see me approaching, so I knock at the opened door.

“Knock, knock,” I say.

“Who’s there?” Simon asks in return, not having to look up from his papers to actually know that it’s me.

“Your worst nightmare,” I reply and enter the room, heading straight to his desk.

“My pants falling down in class because I forgot to put on a belt at home?” he asks back with concern in his voice and I have to grin.

“That’s your worst nightmare?” I ask teasingly, sitting down in front of his desk.

He then looks up from his work and takes off his glasses to rub at his tired and overworked eyes.   
“No, I guess that would either be losing Betty or you, Marcy.”

This makes my heart flutter, to be honest. Simon would definitely make the best dad in the world, and I’m really sad that I didn’t get the chance to be his biological daughter.

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” I say and take one of the candies that he alway keeps in this bowl on his desk. Told you, best teacher ever.

Simon chuckles but then he suddenly turns serious, putting his glasses back on after cleaning them with the hem of his grandpa-sweater.

“Marcy, did you get in some kind of trouble?”

My stomach churns. I don’t care what others think of me, hell, I don’t even care what my biological dad thinks of me, but when it comes to Simon, I don’t want to disappoint him in any way.

“Well… In my opinion, I didn’t do anything wrong this time. But, you know that I’m at loggerheads with the principal.”

Simon sighs, and my stomach drops further. However, this time it’s not only because I feel bad about myself but also because I know that he’s going to deliver me the bad news.

“For real, Simon? Is he making you tell me about my punishment again?!” I ask in untamed bewilderment. This fucking principal doesn’t even have balls!

Simon doesn’t answer immediately so this only confirms my assumption.  
“That shithead! Does he want to make me hate you by assigning you to the shitwork of having to deliver the bad news to me? I can’t believe that guy!”

“Marcy,” Simon says calmy, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder while leaning over the table.  
“That’s not it. He just thinks that I have a better connection to you and therefore could convey this information more easily.”

I actually calm down with his warm hand on my stiff shoulder. And what he’s saying also makes sense, even though I don’t want to admit it. It’s a clever way to confront me with my punishment, since I could never be angry at Simon. Not after all that he and Betty have done for me.

“Huh, okay. So, what’s the news?” I ask reluctantly, awaiting the worst case scenario, to be honest.

Simon clears his throat and scratches his head. This is not a good sign. He’s nervous, so it’s probably something I won’t like to hear.  
“So, please don’t rip my head off, Marcy. But you won’t like it.”

I groan and let myself sink back into the chair, burying my face deep into my black and red striped sweater.

“First, you will have to attend a club.” 

“ _Noooo!!_ ” I almost jump out of my chair when I hear this. This asshole, he’s _abandoning_ our deal? I can’t believe it! What a perfidious bastard!!

“I know, I know,” Simon says with sympathy, knowing all too well that this was part of the deal that he is also perfectly aware of as my guardian.  
“But sadly, there’s more… You also have to get a B+ on the next chemistry quiz and at least a B on the upcoming project.”

My jaw almost drops to the ground and my eyes are dangerously close to popping out of my skull. “Wha… What… **HOW**?? I’m at best a C- student! Who does he think he is, that bald-ass Judas-”

“Mar-Mar, calm down,” Simon says softly, giving me a look of concern and empathy. “I know that you can be a hard-working girl. I don’t think this will be a problem for you once we find you a tutor.”  
  
I pinch the bridge of my nose in disbelieve. Is this actually happening? A tutor? For me? “No. Nope. I'm not doing this shit. No one is suicidal enough to be my tutor, Simon,” I eject defeatedly.

That just makes him laugh. “Oh, I know two very good students that can be of help to you. I suggested them to be tutors and they gladly took the offer, no matter how difficult the case. Also Marcy, this will be a good opportunity to meet someone new that you might like. As well as participating in a club. I bet the people there are only half as bad as you make them seem.”

He pauses and then takes another deep breath, “and on top of that, you should really take this seriously. If you don’t comply, the principal will consider expelling you.”

I don’t know what to say to that. Somehow I knew this was coming, but I didn’t expect it to actually ever happen.

 

“Okay.”

 

Simon and I are both surprised that I’m acknowledging my defeat this easily. Still, I know that I can’t do anything other than accept my fate. I don’t want to get expelled during the last year, not when I’m so close to graduation.

“Please just don't tell dad,” I add.

Simon smiles at me softly.  
“No, don't worry about that. I will help you in every possible way, Marcy.”

I smile back, though, a little weak.

“I know you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was looking for the nastiest names I could come up for LSP and I think Leslie Sarah Parker does her justice.  
> Next update in 3 weeks.  
> Please leave kudos or a nice little comment behind if you liked the story so far! (its whats keeping it alive)  
> Stay awesome! ♥


	6. Sugar (Oh, honey honey)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, little late. Finals and stuff.  
> Hey, we've reached over 100 kudos! That's amazing guys, I love you! 
> 
> Anyway, chapter 6 is not that great, but here we go

When Bonnibel came home that evening, she asked herself if it had been a good idea to hand Marceline her phone number.

Said person still hadn’t written to her, which made Bonnibel disgruntled on different kinds of levels. Marceline was the one that asked for her number, so why wouldn’t she make use of it?!

For the whole day, Bonnie’s eyes had been glued to her phone’s screen, having been so insanely absorbed in finding a little message icon popping up in the left corner of her phone and showing her that she had received a message from a yet unknown number.

That moment never came, and so Bonnibel Butler found herself alone and aggrieved in her own room of the Butler Mansion at 6 pm sharp, angrily tossing her phone across her bed before lying down on it with crossed arms.

Why would it take Marceline _so long_ to just sent her a simple “hey” or something like that?  
Worse, though, was the fact that Bonnibel herself couldn’t do anything against it. She simply had to wait. And she didn’t like not being in control of things.

She puffed her cheeks bitterly and pondered over what she should do now. The first thing that popped into her mind was her best friend Lady that she could consult to let loose of some bottled-up anger.  
...Sometimes she wondered if she had some kind of anger issue.

Bubblegum still grabbed her previously abandoned phone from the other end of the bed and began to frantically type a message to her best friend.

Bubblegum (6:05 pm)  
_‘Are you busy?_ _  
_ Need to talk.’

She hit “send” without even thinking about how selfish that message sounded, but was surprised when Lady answered her almost immediately.  
The answer, however, was not at all to Bonnibel’s liking.

Lady (6:05 pm)  
_‘Sorry at Jake’s rn  
_ is it super important?’

Bonnibel groaned. Of course she would be spending time with her boyfriend during dire times of need.   
Even though her fingers were itching to write Lady a message saying that it was indeed _super important_ , she decided against it. She had a better idea about how to deal with her issue instead - simply transforming it into creative work which she realized in her newest formulas.

So, with new found enthusiasm Bubblegum got up from her bed with a sudden jolt and grabbed one of her lab coats decorating the wall on the other side of her room.

Her rat - Science - squeaked excitedly when he noticed that there would be new experiments awaiting him, having been Bonnibel’s most loyal lab partner ever since she found the little rat sniffing through their garbage one fateful night.  
She got the rat out of his cage and nuzzled him, telling him that he would need to wait a little longer before he would come into action again.  
It surely was a funny sight if one didn't know that Bonnibel Butler had a sweet spot for rats and other animals that other people wouldn't usually suspect a girl wanting to cuddle with.

When she was ready to leave and grabbed the doorknob of her room’s door, she was startled when she heard a knock at it and felt someone else already turning the knob from the other side.

“Bonnibel, I’ve got you your new hair extensions,” a male voice spoke through the slowly opening slit separating herself and the other person on the other side of the room.

“Oh, Pepe! You didn’t have to!” she exclaimed, opening the door further so that she could look at her personal assigned butler while they were talking to each other.

Her butler, Pepe, clad in an expensive but less traditional tailcoat than other butlers might have worn - since his was a midnight-blue shade instead of the common black - and his greyish hair with the few outstanding red strands painstakingly gelled back, stood in the door frame with said pink hair extensions dangling boringly from his extended hand which created a very unpicturesque contrast to his blue outfit.

“Huh,” he sighed somewhat dejectedly, probably because it had been a lot of work to get the best suited extensions for the daughter of the famous Candy Kingdom founders.

Now Bubblegum actually felt a little bad upon seeing her butler drop his shoulders in disappointment.  
“You see, I kind of wanted to try this new style,” she carefully approached him.

Meanwhile, Pepe was inspecting her extensively, and Bubblegum already knew what was about to come next.  
“Please excuse my bluntness, m’lady, but where do you think you are going with that lab coat?” he asked nonchalantly, and then added with pressure, “after _having your head catch on fire_.”

Bonnibel rolled her eyes at her scrupulous butler, but not without knowing that Pepe catching her trying to sneak out meant absolute game over.  
Without anything to say to that, she got rid of her lab coat and peevishly put it back on the wall.

“Very well,” Pepe said contentedly, “I don’t think your parents would appreciate you working after such a tremendous accident.”

“Oh, please, nothing even happened to me,” Bonnibel defended, however to no avail since Pepe would never change his mind when he was given an “order” from her parents. And this time, it probably meant to keep her from conducting any experiments.

“I’m sincerely sorry, Bonnibel, but since I was given the honor of having to take care of you” - the sarcastic undertone didn’t slip Bonnibel - “as long as your parents are back in Germany, I will take utmost care that nothing bad - or well - _worse_ ever happens to you again,” her butler said with his chin raised to underline just how important his task was. 

“So, does that mean I will have to stay here in my room _forever_?!” Bonnibel asked, quite disturbed that this would even be an option.

“Of course not,” Pepe retorted calmly, “I just think that a little break would not do you any harm. We all know that you tend to overwork yourself, so maybe look at it as some sort of vacation.”

And then he retreated from the door, telling her that dinner would be ready soon and closed it behind him as he turned around to go on with his other duties as a personal butler, which included neatly storing the new bought hair extension away in case the Butler daughter was ever in need of those again.

As Bonnibel thought her day couldn’t get any worse, she let herself down on her bed with a groan and subconsciously took her phone in her hand again, not sure yet what to do with it.

However, this time she was pleasantly surprised when she found a new message had appeared on her screen from an unknown number.

  
  


«♥»«♥»

 

I always wondered when I would make use of my own “the-rollercoaster-that-is-my-life”-metaphor in my overall steady and kind of predictable life. For as long as I can think, it has always been a sturdy slope with a very sudden and abrupt downfall that almost always guaranteed some kind of disaster.

Still, that stuff used to be foreseeable as my behavior in the past ensured conflicts with other people, with family or even with friends and everyone just knew that it would result in drama in the end because _that was what used to be my life._

But now, here it is - my own rollercoaster where I am my very own and only guest. However, I have absolutely no clue how and where I will end up at the end of the ride.  
The past two weeks have been ups and downs all over and with my newly gained punishment, I don’t even know what will await me next week.

All of this is not going according to plan.

The plan was - as you know - to lie low this year. Not getting involved in any drama, in any fights, in any shenanigans, whatsoever. What would happen at the end was also kind of obvious - I would graduate and go to college and alongside that my band would experience its big debut and soon we would go on tours around the world. 

Well, okay, the last one is debatable, but hope is the last thing to die, right?

But now I’m stuck in this rollercoaster seat of life as a passenger on the way to god-knows-where with several ups and downs and turns on the way. I have no idea what is ahead of me and it’s kinda scaring me.  
Sometimes I wonder what it feels like to have your life already figured out.  
I guess that’s what I would have if I ever accepted my dad’s offer and actually took over his company, but yeah, I never really want that to happen.

This just means that I will have to work harder now, which I’m not good at all. But I’m already taking the first step as I’m gonna meet up with my band members for a session at Bongo’s now - that’s our drummer, by the way.

With my bass guitar on my back and rolling down the street on my skateboard, I actually feel really at ease for the first time this day, knowing that I will have a good time with my band members and that I will finally get to sing again, which will help me forget about the shit news from earlier.

It only takes two more minutes and I arrive at Bongo’s garage which has been converted to our own little studio.

“Yo, Marcy!” Kei screams and comes excitedly running at me from inside the garage where the gate is opened, almost pushing me off my skateboard with her overwhelming energy.

“Yo, you dumbass,” I say and jump off, stopping my skateboard with my foot and give my favorite dork a big hug.

“ _YOU_  are calling _ME_ a dumbass after what _YOU_ did?!” She exclaims, bewildered.

“Yeah, Marceline, she wasn’t the one that set her girlfriend on fire!” Another voice calls out from inside the garage. A tan skinned guy with brown hair falling over his left eye and subtle beard stubbles all across his chin, stands up from the brownish sofa that we found a month ago somewhere on the street and now called our own. 

That is Guy -  one of the guitarist, with the others being Keila and me, but also mainly the keyboardist of our band the _Scream Queen_ s.

I roll my eyes at his comment. Couldn’t Keila just shut up for once? Of course, Guy and Bongo are my bestest friends after Kei, but that doesn’t mean they need to know about every faux pas in my life.

“Very funny,” I remark sarcastically and punch Keila’s arm angrily to which she only replies with a nasty grin and a whispered “ _Sooorry_.”

“She’s not my girlfriend and I didn’t set her on fire,” I deadpan and make my way inside the improvised garage-studio, gently resting my bass against the couch and my skateboard against the wall next to Kei’s.

Kei’s skateboard deck shows a row of needle sharp teeth with two fangs on each side and a blood-red print that reads _VAMPIRE ON BOARD_ , whereas my skateboard features a demon-like bat with several eyes, dangling from a branch under a full moon. I think it’s funny how they both complement each other in the vampire theme.

All the pieces in the garage are stuff we’ve either found in the trash, on the street or brought along from somewhere else.   
There’s the brown sofa on the left-hand side of the garage, which we had to clean to get rid of all the used syringes stuck in there (nasty, I know but also pretty punk rock), and then we have a what used to be a red rug we’ve found in the trash of Guy’s neighbors that has some mysterious stains on it in different colors like black, green or yellow. Better not think about it too much.  
On the right side of the garage are some shelves that kind of just always stood there as long as I remember, brimming with utensils to tune guitars, clean them, various cords and that stuff. And next to that we have a fridge that Keila brought here from wherever, where we store drinks and snacks.  
In the far back of the garage is Bongo’s drum kit, Guy’s keyboard and multiple amplifiers for electric guitars and other instruments. The walls of the garage are plastered with several posters of bands like Led Zeppelin, Jefferson Airplane, AC/DC, Deep Purple and so on.

So, it’s not really that bad to look at, I really like it here. Well, it has also become my second home so it kinda should be this way, anyway.

“Hey, Marcy,” Bongo greets from behind his drums where he is working on something as I walk up to the fridge and retrieve a strawberry milk strictly and solely reserved for me from it. I shudder a little as I'm reminded of what kind of power this little bottle possess when I’m holding it in my hand. It just needs one slip of your fingers to totally turn your life upside down.

“Hey, dude,” I nod my head at Bongo and when I turn around to get myself comfortable on the couch, I’m met with Keila and Guy blocking my path expectantly.

“What do you want…?” I ask suspiciously.

“Oh come on,” Keila rolls her eyes, “tell us about that little incident, will ya?”

I groan but I guess I don’t have a choice.  
“Dude, I swear it wasn’t my fault,” I say, sitting down on the couch with the two of them following along and Bongo perking up from behind his drums.  
“We were conducting an experiment in class and I left to, you know, mind my business,” I say, blushing a little, “and when I came back, everything went out of control. First, I didn’t notice it but then someone pointed out that it smelled like something was burning. Well, guess what? My crush had fallen asleep while the burner was still on and caught her hair on fire.”

“Ooooh,” Keila suddenly takes a deep breath and Guy and I look at her being totally weirded out,

 _“This girl is on fiiiiiiyaaah!  
_ _She’s walking on fiiiyaaaa-”_

“ **STOP** it!!” I scream, muffling Keila’s mouth with my hand while the guys are cracking up at her outburst.

“NOT funny! I can never listen to that song again,” I grumble and suddenly feel something hot touch the palm of my hand. I look Keila in the eyes and she just stares back at me with a blank expression, and I can feel the same hot sensation on my palm again.

“Eeewww.” I retrieve my hand abruptly and shake it in disgust, “did you freak just lick my hand?!”   
“That’s what friends do,” my best friend answers bluntly.

 _“Why are all my friends such freaks?”_ I ask myself.   
_“Because you’re also a freak?”_ my instantly mind replies to that.  
Yeah, nevermind that.

“So, shouldn’t we, like, practice or what?” I ask, looking at my band members. The boys are still snickering and Keila claps her hands together all of a sudden.

“Oh, I have an idea!” Then the freak whispers something into Guy’s ear and he gets up with a smirk on his face and walks over to his keyboard.   
I can only watch wondering what the hell is gonna happen next.

Keila also stands up and takes a microphone in her hand, turning it on and making a sound check.

“ _Yeah, hello, check one, two,_ _pap, pap, ka-ka-ka! Skidiki-pap-pap!_ _And a pu-pu-drrrr-boom!  
__Skya_ _!_ _Okay, I think this thing is on!”_

I put my strawberry milk on the ground after almost choking on it and let my head sink into my hands.  
“Kei, the whole neighborhood _can hear you_ ,” I point out, facepalming.  

 _"OH, THEY BETTER DO!”_  She roars and makes the microphone overdrive, what sends a shiver up my spine. Even Bongo and Guy wince at that.

“Whoopsie doo,” she says impishly, holding the mic away from her. Then she clears her throat and gives Guy a nod of her head as an implication to do whatever he was supposed to do.   
Bongo and I exchange a look of confusion across the room, wondering what Keila will do next.

Then Guy starts playing a few notes on his keyboard which I momentarily recognize.

 _“Sugar,”_  Keila begins to sing and looks at me, wiggling both her eyebrows.   
“Oh, honey honey  
_You’re my candy girl,”_ and then she comes towards me, a second mic in hand. She holds it out to me, telling me to sing along.  
“And you got me wanting youu!”

I take the mic and look her dead in the eyes.

_“No, thanks!”_

_“BUT WHY NOOOT?!_ Keila whines just loud enough to elicit another overdrive, but this time I quickly draw the power cord.

I look at my friends with a frown, “Well, why the fuck would we sing _that_?”

Keila rolls her eyes a second time that day and walks over to me, slinging one arm around my shoulders, “Marcy, isn’t your girlfriend, like, _the daughter_ of the Candy Kingdom guys? That totally makes her your candy girl! Get it?”  
A shit-eating grin is displayed on her face.

I can only snort at that lame joke, “And what does that make me? Her sugar daddy, or what?”

“Whatever fits your tits! Though, I thought you wanna have something more intimate and romantic with the nerd?” She wiggles her eyebrows again, an ability that’s creepy enough as it is.

“I thought you weren’t together yet?” Bongo chimes in innocently.

“ _Duuh_ ,” Keila blurts out and shakes her head, “but they will be. Soon.”

I can only smile at her enthusiasm. Bonnie and I have barely made the friendship level yet.

“Oh. Good luck, Marcy!” Bongo replies and I’m a bit flattered that he’s wishing me good luck with my crush.

“Yeah, good luck. You can do it. I mean, we all know that you can easily do anyone that you want, Marcy,” Guy adds with a smug grin.

Now it’s my time to roll my eyes. “Yeah, as if.”  
“Also, Guy, her crush is not just _anyone_ ,” Kei counters, “She might be future Mrs Abadeer!” 

My body’s reaction to that assertion was both unexpected and embarrassing. First, there was a shudder that evoked goosebumps all over my body, especially in the crook of my neck and on my arms. Following that was the feeling of butterflies spreading in my stomach - I shit you not -  and lastly, I felt my face flush without my control.

 

And Keila saw it.

“Oh. My. Globness.” She gasps, drawing the attention of Guy and Bongo on her, “The Ice Queen is blushing!”  

And then even the boys are gasping in utter disbelief.

“Oh, she’s got it _baaad!”_ Guy remarks whimsically and Bongo whistles.

Now I’m not only flushing red because of the butterflies in my stomach, no, now I’m flushing red with _anger_.

“Shut up, you dickheads!! All of you!!”

I don’t even wait for their reactions, just taking my bass out of its bag and plugging it into an amplifier.

“We gotta practice,” I state and strum the bass with force, an ear-splitting sound resonating through the quiet neighborhood outside the garage as a natural consequence of my aggression.

Then I take a deep, calming breath. “Let’s rock.”

  


«♣»«♣»

  


When we’re finally done with band practice - my earlier anger also having subsided in the course of playing music and singing - we pack everything together, ready to leave.  
I, however, have news and I hope my band will like them just as much as I do.

“Guys, listen here for a sec. I have good news.” 

I wait ‘til they are all done with packing and give me their undivided attention.

  
“I got us a gig at Tree Trunks.”

 

All at once, Keila jumps up from the couch in astonishment, mouth gaping open, Guy mutters an impressed “Woah!” and Bongo screams “For real?!” across the room.

“Yep, for real,” I confirm with a content smile on my lips and proudly puffing my chest.

“Awesoome!!” Kei shouts, pumping her fists into the air.  
“And when?” Guy asks. At least there’s someone asking the important questions.

“Three months from now, on the third,” I inform my band members, “that’s why I’ve been wanting to practice so eagerly lately. So, save the date!”

“Aye, ma’am!” Bongo says and Guy nods his head, not really able to hide his pleasant anticipation. We all agree on meeting up more frequently from now on, at least every two to three days if not more often.

 

After saying bye to everyone, Kei and I take our skateboards and sling our guitars on our backs, Guy disappears in his car and Bongo shuts down the garage gate, waving us a last goodbye before he disappears behind the white wall.

Riding home with Kei on our skateboards has become our favorite tradition after band practice since it makes a lot of room for bestie-talk.

“So, tell me, bestie,” Kei begins with a knowing smirk on her face, pushing her foot off the ground and putting it on her skateboard, “how’s it going with the princess?”

I mimic her action, resting both feet on the deck and let myself glide over the smooth pavement of the street.   
“I got her number.”

“Well, finally!” She chirps in return, clearly satisfied with that outcome. “Took ya long enough. How long have ya been texting?”

The next part I admit rather reluctantly, “Didn’t write to her yet…”   
The quiet evening was filled with the rattling of our skateboard wheels just seconds ago, but now I can only hear the sound of my lonely wheels against the pavement and turn around. Kei has stopped in her tracks, looking at me with crossed arms and a disapproving expression on her face.  
I turn around and roll over to her, though knowing that she will probably lecture me next.

“Marcy! I bet this girl is like maaad mad! When did you get her number even?”

I scratch my neck nervously. “This morning.”   
Kei huffs. “Good, then it’s not too bad. Still, what’s keeping you from writing to her?”  
“I don’t know, man! There was just too much on my mind and stuff.”

My best friend raises an accusing eyebrow at me and then reaches for the back pocket of my pants, snatching my phone from it.

I know I don’t stand a chance against her, so I just let her scroll through my contacts until she settles on the newest on the list named _Princess_.

“Here,” she says and hands me the phone, “write to her. Now."  
"I don’t even know what!” I reply with a helpless shrug of my shoulders.  
“How about ‘hey’? Has that ever occurred to you?"

I stick my tongue out at her and drift my eyes toward the phone screen where the still empty chat with Bonnie is opened, the blinking cursor challenging me to finally stop chickening out and just write to her, for glob’s sake.

I feel unnecessary adrenaline rush through my body as I type in three simple letters.

 _Marceline (6:12 pm)  
_ _‘Hey’_

“And? Did it hurt?” Kei asks mockingly and punches my arm just like I had done earlier, only that she does it as a friendly gesture of approvement and telling me that it wasn’t as bad as I had made it seem.

To my surprise, Bonnie, who was shown as offline just a moment ago, comes online and a speech bubble filled with three dots appearing on the screen tells me that she’s typing.

I hold my breath, and then a second message shows up on the screen.

 _Princess (6:13 pm)  
_ _'Hey.'_

“Oh, she’s mad.” I shoot Keila an insecure look. 

“How do you know?”  
“The dot,” Keila points at the screen, “She’s mad.”  
“Maybe that’s just the way she texts?”  
“Who the hell uses dots and commas besides middle-aged moms? She’s mad, face it.”

I look at the screen, not sure what to do.  
“What do I do now?”  
“Write something, you doofus, and don’t let her wait!”  
I instantly obey and type a third message.

 _Marceline (6:14 pm)  
_ _‘How are you?’_

This time Kei gives me an incredulous stare.

  
“Are you for real?”

  
“What?!” I have no clue what the hell I did wrong now.

“' _How are you’_? Well, now that’s really professional,” Kei snorts at my pathetic attempt at a conversation. “Dude, I see that this girl is kinda difficult to deal with. I think she would like to hear an apology.”

I groan but comply nevertheless.

Marceline (6:15 pm)  
_'And sorry for writing to you so late  
_ Had band practice and didnt get to use my phone'

"Here, is that okay?” I show Keila the message and she nods.   
“Good,” I say.  
“Let’s wait for her reply first,” Kei advises however.

And the reply came pretty shortly after.

 _Princess (6:15 pm)  
_ _'Oh, okay. How was it?'_

“See!” I exclaim and almost ram my phone in Kei’s face. “She _does_ write like that! I knew it.”  
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Keila grumbles and then points out, “She didn’t even answer your _‘How are you’.”_ But then her face softens. “But look, now it’s moving forward. Keep her interested in the conversation, find some things you have in common and then seduce her with your Marcy-sexting-skills. Now, let’s keep movin’, I wanna go home.”  
I consider what she’s said for a moment - especially the sexting part - and then nod.

“Alright, just lemme tell her that I will answer her at home.”

That said, I quickly type a message to Bonnie saying that I will tell her later and that it’s kinda hard answering her while on a skateboard (you know, to impress her), and then store my phone away in my pocket and ride home alongside my best friend, not missing Kei’s faint mumbling. 

  
“ _Lovebirds.”_


	7. Game Changer

When Jake woke up on that morning, he didn't have a clue.  
No, the eighteen year old captain of their high school’s basketball team went through his morning routine as per usual, not suspecting anything when his younger brother knocked at his door, announcing that he had to get ready for school.  
When he had finally managed to drag his tired body out of his bed, Finn was already taking a shower as he always did after running around the block at 6 in the morning.  
Jake would never understand how his brother was able to not only get up this early in the morning, and certainly not how his brother was able to convince himself that it was a good idea to torture himself right before school.  
The older brother would always stick to his usual routine, getting woken up at 7 by Finn before he took his shower, and then going downstairs to prepare his world famous bacon pancakes before getting ready himself and driving them both to school.

_ “Bacon pancakes, makin’ bacon pancakes, take some bacon and I'll put it in a pancake…”  _ he sang while preparing his and his brother’s absolutely essential breakfast. Both of them would never dare leave the house without any food inside them, and if they did, it would mean bad luck.

He heard his little brother sprint down the stairs just then, probably because the smell of the pancakes was filling up the whole house by now and had gotten to him.

“That smells superlicious,” Finn said, taking a quick glance at his brother’s handywork while also drying his long hair with a towel. He was already dressed in his light blue shirt and blue pants, the seemingly only two constituents of his closet.

“Sit down, bro, and let yourself be taken on a journey to the ultimate flavorwork your tongue will ever experience,” Jake said while letting half of the pancakes drop on a plate in front of his brother and the other half drop on a plate for him.

The two brothers downed the breakfast in no time at all and finished their ritual with two very loud burps echoing through the house.  
Jake relaxed in his seat and let the warm pancakes fill his stomach to the fullest. But when he looked at his younger brother, expecting him to have enjoyed the pancakes just as much as he did, he saw that he was spacing out. It was pretty unusual for Finn to have something on his mind and wondering about it this early in the morning.

“Hey, what's wrong?” the older of the brothers asked carefully and seemed to have scared Finn out of his daydream as he looked at him with his mouth as well as his eyes wide open.

“Sorry, what?” Finn asked back, probably not aware that he had been found spacing out.

“You were spacing out just now. Got something on your mind?”  
Finn became quiet for just a moment too long before he answered, “Nah. It's nothing.”

With a frown, Jake eyed his brother a little longer but thought to just let it go. When his brother didn't want to talk about it, then he wouldn't pressure him into doing so.

After that, Jake hit his belly that had drastically grown in its size.  
“Welp, I'm gonna go to the bathroom. We gonna mee- Wait, Finn. How late is it?!”

Jake had just taken a look at the clock hanging on the wall behind Finn’s back who then stared back at his brother in both surprise and confusion. He turned around to take a quick look at the clock himself.

“Oh, what the flip?!” He sprung up from his chair right then as realization hit him.

“We’re totes gonna be late! Why did you wake me up this late?!” Jake groaned in frustration as he was already getting up from his chair and heading for the stairs.  
“I don't know, I got back a little too late from my jog, I guess. Sorry!” He screamed after his brother, who was already walking up the stairs.

“Just make us some sammiches and get the car out of the garage. I'm gonna pack the lunch and we gonna meet in the car in five!” Jake screamed back and hurried into the bath.

Finn nodded to himself and began storing the dishes away as well as preparing their sandwiches while Jake went to prepare himself.

A look in the mirror revealed to him that he looked as sharp as always, his blond Afro only needing a few strokes with the comb. After brushing his teeth though, he would always take his time to carefully treat his signature mustache, although today he would have to hurry with that. Still combing and trimming it quite neatly, he was satisfied with his look and got himself dressed quickly, the last and most important piece of clothing that he put on being his purple letter jacket with their school’s initials on it and an owl adorning its back, which the students of Ooo High School referred to as the Cosmic Owl. No one was really sure where the term had originated from, but the legend goes that the Cosmic Owl would appear in the dreams of football or basketball players before every successful game.

Sadly, the Cosmic Owl had never visited Jake before.

The brothers sat in the car at 7:40 am, leaving them barely enough time to get to their school and picking up Jake’s girlfriend Lady on the way if they didn't hurry up.

“You got your bag, Finn?” Jake asked hastily as he put on his seatbelt.  
“Yipp,” Finn replied and showed his older brother a thumbs up from the backseat.  
It only took them about five minutes to arrive at Lady’s house where the girl was already waiting for her ride.

“Hey, cutie,” Jake greeted his girlfriend and kissed her when she was sitting comfortably in the passenger seat.  
Lady replied with the korean equivalent that Finn would never be able to understand and buckled up with a giggle.  
“A little late today, aren't we?” Lady chuckled when Jake let the engine of his car roar as he pulled out of the driveway.

“Totes my fault,” Finn replied from the back, “got a little caught up during my jog this morning.”

“Oh, why? Were you thinking about your crush?” Lady teased and made Finn blush so hard that even his ears turned red.

“Totally not!” he cried and pulled his beanie over his ears.

Their morning routine was almost coming to a close then as they would arrive at their school in less than two minutes.

If it weren't for Jake who had suddenly realized something. Something bad.

“Oh, no…” he mumbled, eyes turning wide in shock.

Finn noticed his brother’s weird behavior almost immediately.  
“Jake, what’s wro- WATCH OUT, THERE'S A RED LIGHT!!”

His brother braked hard in the next instant, inches separating their vehicle from that in front of them.

Finn was sent flying forward, not having put his seatbelt on, his face hitting the backside of the passenger seat and Lady’s peroxide blonde hair flew right in front of her face from the sudden jerk.

When both of the passengers eventually regained their composure after the near-death experience and realized that they were not dead yet and had not experienced whiplash, their eyes shot a mix of daggers and a hint of worry in Jake's direction. 

The brother and boyfriend of the two others in the car just stared almost lifelessly into the far distance, seemingly oblivious to the death stares directed at him, and then - with a very sad voice - he said,  “I forgot to pack our sammiches...”

That's how he got his first clue that something bad would definitely happen on this day.

  
  


↞♠♠↠

  
  


“Hey, Finn! Could you tell me what’s going on with Jake?”   
The younger of the brothers was greeted as he stood a good distance away from his desperate sibling.  
He understood Bubblegum’s confusion all too clearly. 

His brother stood in front of one of the few vending machines that their school grounds possessed and was fiercely mumbling something to himself while aggressively pressing the buttons on the machine.

“Hi, Bubblegum,” Finn greeted back but not without his cheeks reddening as the school’s top science student stood only inches away from him, their arms almost touching, observing his older brother’s weird behavior.

His eyes sheepishly roamed over Bubblegum’s figure when she wasn’t looking, and he took in her perfectly color-coordinated choice of clothing on this morning.  
A pink sweater, purple jeans and white sneakers. Finn was always amazed as to how someone could actually combine any of these colors in that manner and especially when they had their hair colored a bright, unnatural pink. He always thought that that was kind of brave but Bubblegum rocked that look just perfectly somehow. 

There were many other things that the boy found fascinating about her.  
How she was so naturally smart, how she looked so overly beautiful and how she always knew to defend herself with only the use of words whereas he was mostly reduced to his muscle strength. Not because he was dumb, he just couldn’t find nearly as striking words that could ease a tense situation. And sometimes it proved to be more useful when he used his fists instead of his brain. At least for him.

“Finn?” Bubblegum asked with a tilt of her head as he didn't answer.

The young boy then realized that his friend and everlasting crush had actually asked him a question and snapped out of his trance-like state of admiration for her.   
“Uh, yeah, he’s raiding the vending machine, ‘cuz we forgot to bring our lunch.” 

He was met with an underwhelmed frown from Bonnibel who then let go of a shiftless sigh.  
“Do I have to understand why he doesn't simply wait for lunch to eat in the cafeteria?” 

Finn again got her way of thinking. If it wasn't for his brother’s peculiarity.  
“Eh, he doesn't like the food there. He says it doesn’t supply him with his required nutrients.” 

Bonnibel’s next look could have been translated to  _ “Are you fucking kidding me?” _ and Finn shrugged in return.  
“Don’t ask. I don’t even know myself.” 

Silence settled down between the two who curiously studied Jake’s questionable action.   
Finn squirmed, perfectly aware of how close Bubblegum was positioned to him. He wanted to ask her. He wanted to ask her so badly. 

_ “Ah, come on now. That’s as easy as childbirth!” _

“So, I wanted to as-”  
“I have a questio-” 

Finn and Bubblegum looked at each other, both of them having interrupted the other at asking their question.

“Go ahead,” Finn said and gestured toward her, as always thinking about his appropriated gentleman codex.

“Have you seen Marceline anywhere?”

Finn almost believed that he’d misunderstood his friend. Why in the world would Bubblegum want to know if he’d seen Marceline, the Vampire Queen? What kind of bizz did she have with her?

“Ugh, no?” he answered, raising an eyebrow in confusion at that unsuspected question.

“Nah man, she ain’t good news, Bubblegum,” Jake joined in on their conversation. In his arms he held a massive pile of every salty or greasy snack possibly available in the vending machine, a few of them bearing the label  _ “The Candy Kingdom” _ . He was already working on a bag of chips, having ripped it open with his teeth since he couldn’t move his arms.

“She’s probably ditching school again,” he then added, munching on his vinegar chips.

“Ditching school? She does that?” Bubblegum genuinely asked in surprise and Finn almost felt sorry for the girl asking such an innocent question. “But I’ve never seen her absent from chemistry class?”

“Oh, she does that all the time. I just think it got a lil’ less since she got her ass whooped by the principal about it.”

Bubblegum looked at Finn for confirmation, who just shrugged. He didn’t really want to get involved in that stuff. And even though he knew that Marceline Abadeer usually meant bad news, he wasn’t one to badmouth someone he didn’t really know. His gentleman codex forbid him. 

“Just yesterday she did it again. Didn’t see her in history class. Even heard some people talkin’ ‘bout her. Apparently she got caught sneaking off by the principal and was called in his office.”

Bonnibel clutched the phone in her hand. Just yesterday she had talked to Marceline, who hadn't shown any signs that she was about to skip school.

She looked at her phone’s screen. Still no message.  
“Hmm, okay. I see,” Bubblegum simply said. Five minutes until classes started. Maybe she would still appear.

“Come on, Finn. Can’t be late for class. See ya later, Bubblegum!” Jake suddenly said and pushed his brother in the direction of his classroom with his shoulder, arms tied due to the snacks in his hands.

“But-!” Finn wanted to interject. He still hadn’t asked her!

“Later!” Bubblegum waved them a brief, temporary goodbye and went in the other direction, leaving Finn again with the same not-posed question.

Would he ever be able to ask her?

  
  


↞♠♠↠

 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” I curse, locking my car in a hurry and sprinting into the school. A brief look at the clock outside the school building reveals to me that I’m 30 minutes too late. With a growl, I already prepare myself for the next red flag this week and I'm just hoping that I won't cross paths with the principal first things on this morning.

Why in the world did I have to be fucking oversleeping?! Dammit.

Well, to be fair, Bonnibel did keep me up all night with texting her.

It all had started out as some simple small talk when I asked her about her day and told her about my band practice, which got her all wired up, with the immediate response being  _ “Oh my glob, you're actually in a band?!” _

After that, I'd been sneaking in some pictures of cute kittens and all the pink aesthetic stuff I came across on social media platforms to tease her, when we were talking about how I'm gonna help her hide dead bodies if one of her experiments ever went wrong. During that conversation we established that Bonnibel is actually  _ a slut  _ for pink. She told me that her whole room is colored a pastel pink, her wardrobe contains at least 60% of pink, and then my mind trailed off and I wondered if her underwear was also- 

_ “Okay, too far, Abadeer!” _

Sheesh, the thirst got me in a tight grip these days. 

At around 12 pm, we settled into the deep talk that had somehow centered on Twilight and on just how shitty the representation of vampires was throughout the books. However, I’m not denying that as a kid, I was really into it. But now as I’ve grown up and riped a little bit more mentally, I just can’t stand these movies and books anymore. Just how hard had I been blinded as a child?

After that we shifted our conversation to the Fifty Shades series as we talked about how no fanfiction should ever be made into a movie again. Bonnie showed me how to perfectly pinpoint that the books were just some kind of a badly written and smutty Twilight fanfiction and she told me that it becomes even more evident in the movie when you look at the cast. Yeah, I’ve never seen the movies, and I think that actually just saved me from cutting my life short by a few years from all the cringiness I would have gotten from them. Not to mention the awful depiction of what they claimed to be real BDSM that would have probably caused me an aneurysm.

In the end, we came to the conclusion that Fifty Shades and Twilight suck. I mean, sparkling vampires? Come on, dude, vampires are cut-throat predators that don’t fucking sparkle and do cliché high school romances. They're gay, though, that's an undeniable fact.

We ended the conversation at two in the morning. But being awake at these ungodly hours seems to be just Bonnie’s thing, remember?  
Well, it doesn’t work that well for me.

I actually didn’t plan on oversleeping, not after Bonnie’s last message saying  _ “See you tomorrow.”  _    
She's looking forward to seeing me, I can't disappoint her.

But somehow I’ve managed to sleep through all my alarms, which is actually pretty unusual for me. I’m rarely sleeping through the nights without waking up in a cold sweat embracing my body from some horribly fucked-up nightmare. And even then, I usually don’t sleep in that long since my body is already so accustomed to my lack of sleep that it has just put its settings on functioning on low steam every day. Which doesn’t make anything better, especially concerning my awful paleness that's already making me look like a freaking white bed sheet on two legs.

I growl annoyedly while rushing through the school hallway and simply ignore the “wet floor” sign put on the floor on my way to the classroom.  
Which proves to be a terribly bad idea, because  _ SMACK!  _  - here I am, lying on the floor in a dirty puddle of mob water having absorbed probably the most horrible of sins ever committed in this hellhole. For a split second I’m seeing stars as I landed on my back and my head hit the floor pretty hard. Well, if that didn’t already happen one too many times when I was a kid. 

Begrudgingly, I get up from the floor and notice that my whole flannel shirt is now soaking wet and that my grey jeans has a dark, round spot right on my butt. Why do I have to be wearing grey on this day again?  
“Fucking great!” I spit but hurry to the science room nonetheless, ignoring my incoming dread that I will be feeling pretty uncomfortable in these clothes very soon. 

“Abadeer.”

My blood runs cold. Just how much more awful can this morning even become?

“You're too late. Explain.”

“Yoo, principal,” I chirp and awkwardly wave my hand at him. “So, ugh, had some problems with my car, that piece of junk.” Lying comes as naturally to me as giving a damn about the people at this school.

The principal looks pretty unimpressed by that generic excuse and turns his eyes on his watch. “Thirty-three minutes. And on top of that, you’ve been running through the halls. Both of these. Things. Are. UNACCEPTAB-!”

“Unacceptable! Yes, got it!” I quickly interrupt his incoming screech that would probably trend on Youtube if someone would upload it there.

He clears his throat and angrily adjusts this ugly yellow tie around his neck. Beads of sweat run down his bald head when he’s obviously struggling to keep his obsessional neurosis under control.

“You’re practically begging for detention at this point, Abadeer,” he hisses.  
I can feel my stomach drop at the mention of that atrocious word. I never want to go back there. Detention is basically the front hall on your way to hell.

“Hey, Principal, I’ve had perfect attendance up to this point during this year, it’s just that my car broke down this morning. Things like these happen, alright?”

A deep, vicious growl leaves the back of his throat.

“Fine, I’ll let you off the hook. For now! One more thing, Abdeer, and I will make sure that this place becomes even more of a godforsaken hellhole for you than it is now!”  
With this final statement, the principal dismisses me with a hand motion that couldn’t possibly be more derogative.

With my heart almost beating out of my chest and the blood rising to my head so that I can hear nothing besides an almost deafening pounding in my ears, I return to my walk to my first period, fist clenched as the anger consumes my whole body.

When finally reaching my destination, I kick the doors open to the science room, immediately drawing all eyes on me when I enter the lab. I don’t care and just make my way to my spot.

“Ah, Abadeer. It’s nice that you’re delighting us with your presence today, but please, I thought we were over the whole door-kicking thing,” the teacher says without even turning away from the blackboard where he’s writing down some kind of equation, knowing all too well that only one student in his class could cause such ruckus.

I just roll my eyes and let myself drop down on the chair next to Bonnibel.

I expect her to look displeased at my show, but instead, I see her smiling at me. 

“I didn’t expect you to still show up,” she whispers while casually taking notes from the blackboard.

“What, why? I never missed one chemistry class this year,” I say, confused that she would think I would cut school.  Because, actually, I can’t afford to be missing chemistry. But I will never let her know that it was solely because of her. Fuck what the principal says.   
“I’m just a little late because _someone_ kept me up until two in the morning.”

“I’m sorry,” she says and I see a little smile tug at the corner of her lips.  
“And it’s just that Jake said you would do that quite often. Skip school, I mean. And that you got in trouble because of that just yesterday,” Bonnibel explains matter of fact without looking up from her notes. I almost can’t believe my ears, however.

“WHOA, what?”

“Shhhhh!!” The teacher shushes angrily at the interruption from the front.

Then I say, somewhat quieter, “I have no idea who told him that,  _ princess- _ ”

“Stop calling me that!” Bonnibel exclaims through gritted teeth, although she probably knows that I will never stop. It’s just become our thing to do, you know?   

“Silence!” The teacher yells this time, however still not turning around to take direct action against the interruption.   
Bonnie blushes slightly and clears her throat. 

“Anyway, no idea where he got that bull from, but the principal called me in to talk about what happened to  _ you _ ,” I put emphasize on the last part of the sentence, showing her that she's not so innocent concerning my abduction by the principal yesterday.

“What, why? I talked to the principal and  _ told him _ that this whole accident wasn’t your fault.” Now she's facing me, looking confused, one of her perfectly painted eyebrows drawn into a high arch and the other one turning into a frown.

“He wasn’t convinced that it wasn’t my fault. I got punished.”

_ "No way?! _ ” my crush whispers in bewilderment. “That's unbelievable! Who does he think he is?!“ Bonnibel shakes her head angrily.

“I have news for you,” I say mockingly, leaning in closer to her, “he’s an absolute asshole. And no, I wasn’t cutting it. That bald asshole simply kept me hostage for the whole second period. So, no idea who told your mustache friend that I was ditching class but they better keep their mouth shut next time,” I say unamused. That’s exactly why I hate this fucking school. Everyone just thinks they can spread any bullshit they want without any consequences. It’s always been like this and it will never change, I suppose.  
“And mustache boy should hold himself back with these things. He doesn't even know me.”

“Oh, man. He would be so scared of you right now,” Bonnibel says with a chuckle.

“You bet,” I retort, crossing my arms in front of my chest and leaning back in my chair. There’s only 10 minutes left of class anyway so I don't bother taking notes since it would just be a waste of energy. Moreover, I didn't even bring anything to write something down on, so that's another reason why not to bother.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see that Bonnibel is mustering me when I lean back.  
“What?” I whisper.

“I can’t make sense of you. My friends say I shouldn’t get involved with  _ Marceline, the oh so scary Vampire Queen  _ but all that I’ve come to know about you totally contradicts anything they say.”

I snort. Of course her friends wouldn’t want her to hang out with me. They’re no better than anyone at this shit school. I’m sick of people judging me even though they don’t have the slightest clue about what’s going on in my life. “Your friends just pick up what everyone else is saying. They don’t have any right to judge who I am. I really hoped you were smarter than to blindly believe everything they say.” I can’t help the sharp undertone in my voice. I’m just really peeved that the day has to start like this and that I'm confronted with the undying hate directed at me again first things first this morning.

My soaked clothes are truly not making anything better. My ass is freezing and the fabric is disturbing my skin whereas my wet flannel shirt is sticking to my side and is making me feel icky. 

“I am smarter than that,” I can hear Bonnie say with resolution.

Still, I’m so deep in thought and squirming in my uncomfortable clothes that I absentmindedly ask, “What?”

“I said I’m-”

“Who is this?! Who keeps talking there in the ba- Bubblegum? Now, I can’t believe it!”

We’re both suddenly interrupted by a very furiously yelling chemistry teacher, who has finally turned away from the blackboard and is now facing us with two arched eyebrows. As he witnesses that it’s indeed his favorite student who is disturbing the lesson, he has to adjust his glasses and gives her a disappointed look. And then he’s sending a very disapproving look in my direction.

All the people in front of us turn around, watching this once in a lifetime spectacle unfold in front of their eyes.

“Bubblegum, I’m really startled. You have never disturbed my class before - No, in fact you were always the most well-behaved student I’ve known. What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” the teacher inquires and Bonnibel shrinks in her seat. She's avoiding eye contact with the teacher and I can see the blood rise to her cheeks.

“And you, Abadeer. I don’t know what’s gotten into you to be sitting right next to Bubblegum, but I can clearly see that you’re not having a good influence on her. Since when are you two even sitting together?” he goes on but his words don't get to me anymore. I'm so used to scolding that you could say that I have become kind of immune to it, so I just sigh and roll my eyes at him.

Bonnibel on the other hand, looks as if she’s gonna break out into tears any second. She’s clenching her pen hard in her hand and is trying to blink away the tears prickling at her eyes.

I can’t help myself. I let go of a hearty snicker.

“Oh my god, did you never get scolded by a teacher or what?” 

_"Shut up_ ,” she says through gritted teeth. This just pushes me over the edge.  
I break out into a roaring laughter.

“ABADEER! As always you can't grasp the seriousness of the situation! Get out of my sight! Now!” The teacher screams and points his finger at the door.  
I get up, holding my stomach from laughing so hard and make my way out the classroom.  
“And you better believe that I will talk to the principal about your tardiness.”  
“Oh...Haha... Don't worry, he already knows!” I press out in between laughs and walk out the door.

I slump down at the wall when I'm outside, wiping away the tears from all the laughing. That girl  _ really is _ a goodie-two-shoes.  
But I feel a bit bad for her, it must have really stung her to get scolded by a teacher that thinks so highly of her. Not that I can relate.

The bell rings just shortly after and I get up from the spot on the ground, waiting for Bonnie to leave the room.  
When she walks out the door, I casually sling my arm around her shoulder - well, as casually as can be with my heart doing backflips in my chest - and she flinches in surprise, whereas I'm surprised that I suddenly got the guts to get so close to her.

But my brain hasn't been the most reliable thing anyway the last few weeks, always making me do things I don't want to be doing.  
It's fascinating how I'm still finding enough confidence to suddenly get this close to her. But what should I say, I somehow feel really comfortable around her while still maintaining a load of respect for her as she is still this super smart brainiac that's totally out of my league. 

I can already feel the nasty glances from the others upon my probably questionable action in their eyes in the crook of my neck in that moment, but I don't care about that right now.

Since I'm  _ slightly _ taller than Bonnibel, my face is right next to her head and the fresh and rich fragrance of her shampoo is going right through my nasal cavity, kind of intoxicating me. It smells like really sweet strawberries, but not the real kind, the candy type. Like some sort of  _ Bubblegum _ . Strawberry bubblegum, could this girl be even more perfect for me?

Her hair had actually been what had captivated me about her the very first day after summer break last year when I could lay my eyes on her for the first time.  
She had been confidently strolling through school on that day, head held high and hands neatly intertwined in front of her as she was being toured through the building.

Back then, I thought that anyone with such an irreligious hair color and their head still held high could only be someone with a mental disadvantage that wouldn't let them realize just how out of place and obnoxious that eye cancer looked like. But for whatever reason, I now can’t possibly imagine any other color befitting Bonnibel’s hair better than this offensively juicy pink, and I will even admit that it really helped me identifying her in the masses of all these irrelevant people when I was searching for her for my own selfish pleasure of adorning my ever-growing crush without her knowledge from across the hallway.

“Sorry that I'm such a bad influence,” I say to Bonnibel while sneering and having my heart excitedly pounding against my chest at the same time, which is a really contradictory way to be feeling, by the way.

Bonnie rolls her eyes but doesn't push my arm away either, which I take as permission to let it rest on her shoulders. I really enjoy having her so close to me, but at the same time, I don't think that I can stay in this position much longer as it would probably make my brain shut down completely and I would be doing something I might regret later.

“And sorry that you were scolded by the teach,” I continue, “But, ya know, there's a first for everything,” I tease her, a suggestive grin spreading across my face. Teasing is what I've come to know as the easiest way to interact with her without losing my cool.

“Oh, shut up already, you big dingdong,” my crush groans, rolling her eyes and hitting me in the stomach with her tiny fist. Then, her hand lingers a little longer on my stomach than should be acceptable and I feel the same cliché butterflies multiply right where her hand is resting, until I realize that she's feeling my shirt.

“Why in the world are you  _ wet _ ?”

_ "You make me like this.”  _ I mentally slap myself for that inappropriate thought. But I can't help it.

“Does it matter?”

We silently walk past the “wet floor” sign and it seems that Bonnie is connecting the dots immediately.  
“Did you… ?”

My eyes turn into slits. I don't really want to admit that I bathed in a puddle of mop water earlier this morning.

“Naaah. That definitely  _ didn't _ happen this morning.”

She opens her mouth to protest but I let go of her and walk toward my locker that we’re fortunately passing by, not being able to hold up my cool attitude around her any longer without it forming cracks that could break down my facade that I've refined over the years.

“Well, see you later, nerd,” I say and open my locker to take out my history book and to let go of a deep, relaxing breath I have been holding in. The spot on my stomach where her hand had been resting just moments ago still feels hot as if her hand had just burnt itself right through the fabric of my shirt right there, and I almost absentmindedly, but at the same time overtaken by curiosity, bring my own hand down to feel that spot - maybe to make sure that she didn't just burn her hand through my shirt, as stupid as that might sound like.

“What's the punishment about, by the way?” Bonnibel asks from behind my back all of a sudden, startling me since I’ve expected her to have walked to her own locker already.

I really don't want to talk about the punishment, however, as I'm still trying to come to terms with that myself, and I especially don't want to talk about the tutor part since I already feel dumb enough in her sophisticated presence.

“Is that important?” I counter somewhat coldly, still facing my locker.

“I just think it’s not justified. You didn't do anything wrong.”

_ "I know that.” _ I bite down on my lip, keeping my mouth shut so that the words wouldn't spill out with the venom they would have carried in them. I can taste blood on my tongue and just then realize how hard I'm actually biting down on my lip, but I just ignore it.

“So, I'm just curious as to what the extent of such an unjustified punishment could be,” Bonnibel continues and I'm missing any sign of realization in her voice that that might have sounded just a little bit tactless to my ears.

I’m just glad that my back is facing her so she can't see the anger crossing my face.   
I know that I didn't do anything wrong. And I know that life's a bitch and comes back to bite you in the ass in the worst of times. 

I slowly turn around to her, giving it my best to conceal my boiling anger about the whole situation behind a blank face.  
“The principal hates me, okay? I have to attend a stupid club now. You might not think that's bad, but Bonnibel, _all_ the people here _hate me._ He knows that and uses it against me to humiliate me.” 

Bonnibel doesn't speak at first. I shut my locker with force and shudder. My wet clothes are making my whole body freeze by now.

“Why do they hate you?”

I more than expected that question and am surprised that, instead of the usual annoyance I felt when people got nosey about that stuff, I feel that I owe her an explanation.

Although I think that's exclusively because she is my crush.

“I did some stupid things in the past, okay? But I've grown up, you know. A thing that not a lot of people can say about themselves.”

I look at her with all the seriousness I can muster up. I know that that's not exactly what she'd wanted to hear, but that's the most I can manage to tell her right now. The most that I want her  _ to know _ .  
“You should go to your class, you're gonna be late,” I say meekly and want to walk away. 

“Hey, why don't you sit with me at lunch?” Bonnibel grabs my arm before I can walk off and I feel as if I'm experiencing a deja-vu.

“Pft, sure. Sorry but I got better things to do than get locked up inside with the loser club,” I say with mocking confidence and a smug wink. Although the only reason I try to appear playful and confident is that I don't want to admit to myself that her friends hate me just as much as anyone else, and they surely wouldn't want me sitting at their table with them.

I'm painfully aware of that. I'm painfully aware that everyone at this school thinks bad about me and that's why I want to shield myself from the humiliation that could be awaiting me by sitting with her fairly popular friends. I don't need their disapproving glances and evil bickering on top of that awful morning. I’m able to take just so much.

“But what are you doing during lunch anyway? I rarely see you in the cafeteria,” Bonnibel questions further.

I put a finger in front of my mouth and say, “That's a secret.”

She slowly let's go of my arm with a disappointed face. I know that she's seeing right through my facade, however. Just like on our first “date”.

“Alright. Talk to you later?” she asks carefully.

“Yup,” I answer, popping the p at the end.  
The bell chimes and I leave Bonnibel standing in the hallway as I turn to walk to my history class, not giving her a second glance. 

I can't shrug off the feeling that the conversation has left some bitter aftertaste in my mouth. I know that I acted coldly, but Bonnibel seriously wouldn't know about the damage it would have caused for me to be accompanying her and her friends. Not only for me but also for  _ her.  _ People are already picking up that something is going on between us, as platonic as it is, and seriously, I get that this is really good material for gossip. Which doesn't keep me from stopping it as long as Bonnibel seems to be okay with it.

But that's still exactly why I want to keep her away from any harmful and blatant lies spreading through the school. I know just how bad they can get.

As I walk down the hall, the blackboard with all of the school’s clubs listed on it appears on the wall to my right and I stop to take a hesitant look at it, remembering my punishment. I don't care if I'm being late to class, the day is already ruined anyway, so I let my eyes roam over the lists.

Chess club, book club, football, soccer. There's even the newly opened e-sports club that was responsible for the massive decrease in people's interest in sports and an increase in the obesity of a lot of young boys at this school. It’s a shame to what lengths the principal would go to raise the reputation of this pathetic school. I would really like to tell him that his attempts at saving anything about this place are totally in vain as long as I am still at this school. But he probably knows that.

One piece of paper suddenly catches the attention of my eye.

It's a scribbled note with an awfully smeared handwriting on it that reads:

 

_ "The basketball club is looking for YOU.  _

_ Join the team NOW. No tryouts, and a GUARANTEED spot in the team awaits you!  _

_ Practise on Tuesday, Wednesday and occasionally on Friday from 4 to 6. _

 

_ P.S.: please come, we desperately need a new member to participate in competitions. _ ”

 

At the end of the note is an ugly, hand-drawn basketball, adding to the despair that is practically oozing from the paper. 

Basketball, huh? And a club so desperate that they would even accept me in their team?    
I rip the whole note off the board so that nobody could interfere with this perfect opportunity.

  
  


«♣»«♣»

 

Jake groaned when his stomach made another twist and forced him to draw calming circles on it with his hand. 

“My stomach huuuurts,” he cried and leaned against his brother’s shoulder, who had been eating his lunch in peace until then.

“You shouldn’t’ve eaten all the snacks, Jake,” Finn simply said and didn't show any sign of sympathy for his brother, which hurt Jake almost more than his stomach ache. 

“But I needed fooood,” his older brother cried again and wiggled his arms in the air.  
“Is this not food?” Finn asked him and pointed at his cafeteria lunch to which Jake only made a “blegh”-sound.

“That's not good food.” He crossed his arms and puffed his cheeks in disapproval. “It tastes like nothing and that's because most of the vitamins were already cooked the heckies out of it.”

Bonnibel watched the brothers silently while picking at her own food. A green salad without any dressing and not nearly enough of tomatoes in it that ensured at least some kind of flavor. Eating this salad was more like eating crunchy water than anything.

Moreover, after her conversation with Marceline earlier, she didn't feel like eating anyway anymore.  
Her crush had affirmed herself that there were things she was hiding from Bonnibel. Not that that was a weird thing, they barely knew each other after all and Bonnie didn't expect Marceline to spill out her deepest secrets just yet. But it were things that everyone seemed to know about Marceline, which she didn't, and they made the others turn on her and despise her. 

Bonnibel got the message that Marceline didn't want her to know about these things or that, at least, she wasn't ready to talk about them yet.

But she needed to know. And even though the other girl's words that she “ _ thought she was better than that _ ” were echoing through her head like bullets ricocheting from wall to wall, her curiosity got the better of her.

 

“Guys, why do you hate Marceline?”

 

The boys instantly stopped what they were doing and stared at her as if she had just asked them if Santa Claus was real.

Finn was the first to speak, “We don't hate her. We just…”

“We’re scared of her. She's eerie, okay? She's got that death glare that makes you imagine ya own funeral while she's laughin’ all evilly in the background,” Jake interrupted his brother and shuddered at the thought of his own funeral.

But that didn't please Bonnibel. She never got that eerie vibe from Marceline, she just seemed very exhausted and sarcastic all the time. Just like a very tired teenager that was sick of everyone talking bad behind her back.   
She also knew that Marceline was trying to keep up this facade of her not caring about anything. But then why would she bother coming to school anyway? Why would she have cared about the strawberry stains on her sweater if she were that evil? And why would she have said that she's changed just earlier? Bonnibel knew that Marceline wasn't that invulnerable monster that didn't care about anything or anyone that everyone thought her to be. That time when they had gone to Tree Trunks together had showed Bonnibel clearly that Marceline did care and that she could even feel bad about things she did wrong.  


What she didn't understand was why Marceline seemed to be hiding that compassionate side of hers from anyone at this school and why she would make herself the number one object of hatred for the other students.

“But what did she do to you that makes you think of her that way?” Bonnibel inquired further, snapping out of her analytical train of thought and got Jake all wired up with her question.

“Aight, Bubblegum, I have no idea where your sudden interest in the Vampire Queen is coming from, but lemme tell ya. She got in a heap of trouble in the past, especially in sophomore year. She always ditched school and when she actually came here once in a full moon, it would always mean bad news. She and her best friend would beat up students when they only as much as got near to them or they would lock girls that they hated in the bathroom for a whole period. They simply humiliated anyone that they didn't like.

“But it didn't stop there. She and her friends would steal money from the school or break into the principal’s office to get the blueprints of all the quizzes. They caused a lot of trouble to the school. But the worst thing was when she and her gang totally wrecked the ol' principal’s car. Like, totally. With bats and all that shit. He retired after that since he couldn't handle her or her friends anymore and that's when we got this stupid asshat Lemongrab as our principal. But she didn't get expelled and I will never understand that.”

There was a pause in which Jake took a long breath.

“And that's just a few things to name. She did a lot of other stuff. Not to mention that she was hanging out with only criminals that were known for drug abuse and extremely violent behavior.”

 

Bonnibel swallowed. 

 

She felt bad.

She felt bad about technically betraying Marceline and asking her friends behind her back about things she didn't want to talk about.

And she felt bad that now, she didn't know what to think of her anymore. 

  _“Stop right there.”_ Bonnibel scolded herself.  
_"It does sound pretty bad and severe, but she herself said that she has grown up. That means that she regrets what she did.”_

The young scientist didn't want to judge too quickly. That is something that her encounter with Marceline had taught her to avoid in these past two weeks. Besides that, even she believed in everyone deserving a second chance.

However, she couldn't say that what Jake had told her didn't influence her picture of Marceline at all. Still, another idea popped into her mind just then. 

“Jake, I want you to think about the last time she did something to you  _ personally _ .”

Her friend glared at her in bafflement. “Did you not hear what I just sa-”

“No, Jake. I want you to think about what she did to  _ you _ and not the others.”

Even though Jake was really taken aback that her friend didn't appear to even consider what he had said just now, he complied and thought back about the times that Marceline had molested him.

Only to find none.

“Well, she…” he paused because he didn't want to admit that the Vampire Queen hadn’t done anything to him personally ever, since he wanted to get a point across. At least he thought that this was what he wanted.

“She didn't do anything to me personally, but my frien-”

He was simply cut off by Bubblegum again, who turned to Finn already anticipating her question.

“And you, Finn? What did she ever do to you?”

“Nothing,” he simply replied.

There was an awkward silence at their table during which all of them reflected on their past experiences with Marceline.

Finn had always stayed quiet when the Vampire Queen came up in conversations, but he couldn't hide the fact that the way his friends were talking about her had also formed his opinion on her that she was someone he definitely didn't want to mess with.

Jake realized that Marceline had never personally attacked nor interacted with him before, and that all the things he knew about her came from stories of other people and even of some he barely knew.

He was aware that Bubblegum had wanted him to realize exactly that, but he was still too intimidated by the Vampire Queen that he would simply shrug off everything he’d heard about her as if it was nonsense. These things didn’t just appear out of thin air. 

And Bonnibel…  she was certain to avoid mentioning her conversation with the boys about Marceline as best as she could when she would see her again. She hadn't wanted to betray the girl like that, but she was still convinced that knowing the details about the hate directed at her was something that could be used to her advantage. And definitely to better understand the punk rocker.

“What's up with you guys, did you get into a fight?” Lady came to their table with a tray in her hands and scanned her friends, growing worried when she saw their grim faces.

“What happened to you?” she asked with concern as she got into the seat next to Jake, who looked especially sour.

None of the boys wanted to speak first because they were scared to say something that would put Bubblegum on edge, so they simply stared at her until she gave in and explained what had happened just now to her best friend.

“I just wanted to know why they hate Marceline.”

“And that's why you people look as if you're contemplating your life?” Lady said with a chuckle, but as soon as she saw that no one was responding to that, her grin dropped.

Then Jake suddenly turned to Bubblegum.

“I don't know why Marceline seems to be our number one topic every day, but I would like to talk about something else for a change. I'm still wary of her and I don't think that will change all too soon.” 

Lady shot an apologetically look toward Bubblegum. She knew her friend’s probable motive behind her question to the boys and was sorry that Jake was behaving so insensitive about it, even though she knew he would have more understanding if he only knew about Bonnibel’s interest in Marceline. But he didn't have a clue about Bonnibel’s crush and as long as she didn't want to tell her friends about it, she didn't dare to tell her boyfriend anything.

Bubblegum merely nodded in understanding regarding Jake’s request and Lady’s apologetical look.

“It's alright. Let's talk about something else.” 

  
  


«♥»«♥»

 

“Alright, boys and girls. As you know we're still one mate down to actually form a team that can participate in competitions. Not only that we’re an involuntary mixed team where it’s already hard enough to find competition, we also might not be able to crush Phoebe's team this year.”

Jake's jaw tensed visibly and the piece of paper he was holding in his hands was getting crumbled at the sides. Blinded by fury, the captain of the basketball team hadn't noticed the new figure standing in line with the other players, all of them staring at the newby with a whole array of emotions, not really listening to their captain.

“And we can't let that happen! Ever since that stupid principal Lemongrab allowed e-sports at this school, he’s doomed us sports clubs! We hit rock bottom this year with not being able to form a team! The team bus is absolute junk, we can't afford new jerseys and it's become a burden to get new equipment ever since he also slashed our budget!”

“Ahem.” Finn, who was also standing in line with the others, tried to pull Jake out of his emotional speech that, if he wouldn't be stopped, would turn into a full hour of rambling on about how the new principal was supporting an unhealthy and not educational future for the students at his school and that he had abandoned the talented athletes who were celebrated like heroes at other schools.

Jake stopped in his tracks, his face glowing so red his teammates almost feared that their captain was suffering a stroke.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and cleared his throat. 

Then he spotted the newby and an unintentional yelp escaped him.

It was as if the air was knocked out of his lungs as he saw that there was Marceline, the Vampire Queen patiently waiting in line with the others, clad in a purple basketball jersey.

_"W_ _ hat are you doing here _ ?” he asked in a high-pitched whisper. He watched her with bulging eyes and a sense of danger as if she were some sort of predator about to leap at him.

“Don't give me that look. I don't want to be here either,” the Vampire Queen spoke with an excessively dragged out eye roll. “But I got no choice.”

Jake just stared on in disbelief and then looked at his teammates, who were equally as terrified.

He decided to gather up all his courage available in him as he couldn’t look that weak and cowardly in front of his team that was expecting him to lead them to their victory as their captain. The captain should be able to handle any situation and form a plan to make the next successful move in the game. And getting intimidated by a girl was a big no-no to him.

“So, you want to be part of the team, eh? You better show us what you've got then.” Jake crossed his arms in front of his chest, a gesture he had seen a lot of coaches do before to appear resolute and unimpeachable in front of their team.

He thought that he looked the same, if it weren't for his eyebrows that were curling into a frown of self-doubt and fear.

Marceline mimicked his action, only that she looked more believable in her resolution and absolutely unimpeachable when she argued, “Oh really? This thing here says no tryouts, though?”

Her tone was almost mocking and  _ almost  _ evicted a growl from Jake, who took a puzzled look at the crumbled note in her hands. 

“What the hell is this? Who wrote that!?” he angrily asked the whole group that shared looks of confusion and dread among each other.

“That was me, Beemo,” a delicate and young voice spoke suddenly, the anxious quiver clearly audible in it. “You told us to attract people to come to the club. So I put the note on the blackboard.” The English sounded a little broken, Marceline noticed.

Jake huffed loudly. Of course, he couldn't get angry at Beemo for helping the club out.  But now he almost didn't have a choice but to let Marceline in the team.

“Alright, I get it.” The Vampire Queen suddenly said and got rid of the jersey under which she wore a black shirt.  
“You don't want me in the team. It’s okay. I will just find something else then.” 

Jake almost couldn't believe his sensitive ears. He wanted to jump with joy because the problem had been solved all by itself as he watched the girl turn around and head toward the exit of the gym.

But then one of his teammates went over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. It was Prismo, a tall, dark-skinned guy with the matching black equivalent to Jake's afro. Only that Prismo’s was way more impressive. 

“Jake, you can’t let her go. Let her show us what she's got. We need anyone we can get.”

Their captain was torn. Of course Prismo was right, they really needed her, but his fear seemed to almost overweight his sense of duty as a captain.

But of course, he couldn't let that happen. Not as the captain. He couldn't fail his team.

“Wait,” he said firmly but against his will. “Are you good at basketball?”

Marceline turned around with a smirk and shrugged. “Decent.”

“Would you be okay with showing us a few things?”

“It's okay, I guess.” Marceline caught the basketball that Prismo had gotten for her and then winked at Jake. “Just make sure to watch carefully.”  
And as Jake didn't understand what she meant with that at first, he understood it the more Marceline showed off her skills.

“Oh. My. Glob.” He watched her in bafflement just like his teammates did, as she performed slam dunk after slam dunk and some nice shots from the three-point-line.

Prismo and Finn walked over to Jake, who was sure to have just found the ultimate secret weapon against Phoebe’s team, positioning themselves right and left of him and watched Marceline’s outstanding performance.

“Well, would you look at that,” Prismo said with an impressed smile.

“She's pretty good,” Finn said as well and Jake nodded.

“We will crush Phoebe. We will finally crush her this year.”

Marceline then stopped, panting heavily and sweating all over her body for the first time in a long while, surprised to have found out that it still knew just how to put on an impressive performance when it came to basketball.

She went over to Jake, ball clenched under her right arm.   
“So… hah...what do you say?” 

He looked at his team that looked just as impressed.

And even though he was still deeply terrified of the Vampire Queen, he couldn't deny her the spot in the team now as she proved to be too good to let go. 

 

“You're in.”

 

“Thanks, you saved my ass,” the Vampire Queen replied and let a cold and - in Jake's opinion - almost lifeless hand pat his shoulder before she went to the others and dropped back in line.

Jake shuddered at the unwanted contact with the what he supposed to be her undead body, and then stiffly turned around to tell the team the next items on his list for today’s training.

He might have been terrified of the Vampire Queen, but the thought that he would finally be able to beat Phoebe and her team actually made him fear her just a little less this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys, please leave kudos or a little comment when you like this series so far as this is what is keeping it alive, check out my other story as well if you're up for a little smut.  
> Next update on the first monday next month, sorry guys. The update period will be extened to an update a month to ensure a regular update schedule because I'm dealing with bad health and exams.  
> Stay healthy and awesome. Byyee


	8. Chili Cheese Fries pt.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, it's late again and I'm not 100% happy with this chapter, but you guys don't know how much these exams are stressing me out. Once they're over, this is hopefully gonna be faster again!
> 
> So, chapter 8 is actually the interlude to a chapter where we will explore why I've put "Hurt/Comfort" in the tags.  
> This was actually supposed to be much longer, but chapter 8 is already 20 pages long and like ONE THIRD of the chapter that it should originally be a part of.  
> So, I guess you will read about the other two thirds next time. 
> 
> Today we're introducing a new character to the story, and I want you to understand that every chapter (even tho it might not include some bubbline moments) is essential to the story. So please bear with me, we will get to the sweet sweet bubbline moments that chapters like these are building up.

“Marceline’s basketball skills are really impressive. I just don’t get why she never thought about joining the team sooner with that much talent,” Finn wondered loudly as he and Jake left the school building and walked to their car, their bags lazily slung over their shoulders and a fresh gust of deodorant following them with every step. “We would have beat Phoebe anytime with her,” he added.

“Yeah, who would have thought,” Jake mumbled with a twitching eyebrow while rubbing his hurting butt. Prismo had really smacked it pretty harshly with his towel just now when they had said goodbye. It was a unique tradition between the two boys that Prismo had started out of the blue on their very first day of practice together and ever since they had carried on with it. Even though it had confused Jake quite a bit the first time, he just accepted that quirky behavior and assumed it to be something characteristic of Prismo, like that's just the way he worked. He would always hit Jake’s butt with a towel when they said goodbye to each other after that, but today, it had been a little bit too harsh and enthusiastic, Jake thought.  
“If you ask me, I have a feeling something shady is going on,” he said as he put the car keys in the door to unlock it.

He was really not too glad that Marceline had joined their team since now he would be forced to work together with her almost every two days. He was absolutely not comfortable around her and he didn't like her invading his space that he had always believed to be absolutely vampire-queen-proof.  
But as Finn had already said, she was just way too impressively skilled at basketball to dismiss her. Nevertheless, even he didn’t understand Marceline’s motives as to why she suddenly wanted to join the team since he knew that the Vampire Queen wasn’t someone too fond of anything sports-related.

He knew, because during freshman year at high school, he’d overheard Lady talking about this one gloomy girl that would always try to skip P.E. lessons because she thought sports were a waste of time as a subject at school and shouldn't be graded. She claimed that everyone had a different physique and therefore it would be unfair to expect the same good results out of everyone while the expectations were also way too unrealistically high, according to her.

To be honest, to him that just sounded like a lazy excuse to avoid moving your body around and keep it just a little bit in shape. He was pretty certain that anyone could be at least somewhat athletic if they just trained for it. There are things that need more hard work than others that might come more naturally to you. Jake, for example, wasn't good at math and he would never be because he didn't want to give up his free time to invest it in understanding anything that was going on in his math class at the moment. And for him, it was okay that way, because he had consciously decided for it to be like this.

As the two brothers were finally sat in the car, Finn looked around the parking lot and asked, “Where’s Lady? Not coming home with us today?”

Jake shook his head tiredly. The whole bunch of snacks he’d eaten this morning truly hadn't contribute to practice today, on the contrary, they had only made it worse. He had felt super stuffed and his stomach had been rioting for the whole day, making every move of his muscles a hurtful adventure.

Yeah, he would definitely never do that again.

“She took the bus, didn’t wanna wait for us late asses because she gotta do tons of student council work, apparently.” Jake checked out his Afro and then his mustache in the rear view mirror when he noticed Finn staring out of his window with a worried expression on his face.

“What’s wrong, bro? Looking like something’s bugging ya.”

“Look,” his brother replied and pointed at something outside their car.

Jake again gasped when he saw what his brother was pointing at when his eyes followed the direction of Finn’s finger. On the other side of the senior parking lot stood the Vampire Queen, angrily ruffling her hair and frantically looking around, seemingly a little lost.

“Okay, and what’s the deal with her?” He asked anxiously.

“Well, looks like her car won’t start,” Finn stated and they watched her some more as she was helplessly pacing around her car and seemed to be _talking_ to it.

“ _Weirdo. That ain’t gonna help her_ ,” Jake thought.

“Ay, man she needs help. So we gonna help her, or what?” the younger of the brothers expectantly turned around to the older one, who instantly paled at that suggestion.

“No, nope, nah, not happening. I would really prefer not to!”

  
“Dude, we’re like the only ones around here! Everyone else already left!” Finn tried eagerly when his readiness to help tuned in and had him all fired up to help the flustered girl with her broken down car.

“Well, they were smarter than us, obviously! They’re not gonna die today, unlike us!” Jake defended equally as eagerly as his brother tried to convince him to help Marceline.

Another glimpse out the window and Finn suddenly locked eyes with Marceline from across the parking lot. She had looked helpless and lost but that changed the second their eyes met and she realized that there was somebody out there that could hopefully help her out of that troublesome situation. With a hopeful glimmer replacing the helplessness in her eyes, she then hurried toward their car.

“See, she’s already spotted us, Jake, and is coming over here right now,” Finn said and made his brother fight for air in that moment. “Do you really wanna deny her help when she’s already seeking it out? You gotta be flipping kidding me!”

Jake nervously glanced out the window one more time to assure himself of his impending doom and didn’t even get to take a breath that would help him calm down somehow, because when he looked outside, he couldn’t see her anywhere anymore.

“Finn, she’s freaking gone! Disappeared! Just gone, like swoosh! Dude, she totally teleported somewhere else just now, so let’s freaking skedaddle the fuck outta here!”

With a pretty loud and sudden BANG that came from the passenger’s door of their car, Jake immediately let go of the steering wheel and instead clung to his brother for dear life who had been leaning over from the backseat.

“What the fudge _was that?!_ ” Jake cried while Finn just shook his head because he didn't see what it was either.  
“No, idea, bu-”

They suddenly heard rumbling to their right and Finn had never heard his brother let go of such a girlish and high-pitched scream before when both their eyes landed on the figure now standing right in front of the window.

It was undoubtedly Marceline.

With tons of blood dripping from her face.

“AAAAAHHH!! AAHHH!! AHH!!!” Jake squirmed and screamed while hectically pointing outside the car’s window. “VAMPIRE ATTACK! VAMPIRE ATT-”  
“Sshh, calm down!” Finn put his hand over his brother’s screaming mouth, even though he was also clearly unsettled by the sight that Marceline was presenting to them. Only that he was actually worried about the well-being of the girl and not his own life like his brother.

Quickly, he rolled down the window.  
“Marceline! Are you okay?!” he asked her with a growing feeling of worry in the pit of his stomach, when he saw just how much blood was smeared across her face.

And then he saw that the girl was clutching her nose as she spoke, “I just hit my nose on your stupid car.”  
She was clearly in pain judging by the way her eyebrows were furrowed. Instantly, Finn searched for a tissue that he could give to her.

“And my car won’t turn on. Must have forgotten to turn off the lights. So, uh… thanks,” she said when Finn handed her a tissue that she momentarily stuffed into her nose, “So, yeah, ugh, could you help me out, maybe?”

Finn felt his brother calm down after he had finally stopped screaming, and let go of his mouth when Jake began to wriggle himself free from his grip. The older brother inhaled and exhaled very sharply a few times.

“How did you… hurt your nose on … our car?” Jake had trouble speaking because of the lack of oxygen he had been exposed to just now.

“... Not important,” Marceline growled, “Sorry to have bothered you. I will just call the -”

“No, no, no! We can help, right, Jake?” Finn addressed his older brother with a gentle nudge to the side before the girl could walk away, and Jake just couldn’t believe how unlucky he found himself to be on that day. It just became worse and worse with every passing minute, didn't it?

But even he couldn’t be as cold-hearted and turn Marceline down when he saw how the girl was struggling to keep the blood from flowing out of her nose and how literally no one was around anymore to help her besides them. Sure, she could call some car breakdown service, which he would actually prefer her doing, but his brother would probably never let him live this one down if he ditched her.

“So you’re saying that your battery’s dead?” Jake inquired and the Vampire Queen nodded. The blood was finally stopping to run out of her nose now that Finn had supplied her with a third tissue.

“I guess so. Do you have any gear to help me start the car?”

Jake tried to remember if he had put something that could be of help in his car, but he was pretty certain that he didn’t have anything useful for this kind of situation.

“Sorry, I don’t think I have something with me that could be of help.”

There was a pause where everyone pondered over what they should do now.  
It was Finn, of course, who broke the silence first when he came up with another way to help out the Vampire Queen instead.

“Why don’t we give you a ride and bring the gear with us tomorrow? We can totally pick you up on our way to school, too! ” The younger brother beamed at his fantastic idea. Jake only stared at him in disbelief.

“Are you sure that would be okay?” Marceline asked, directing an uncertain look at Jake.

Great, so it all depended on him now.

He didn't like to be in the presence of the eerie Vampire Queen one bit, but now that Finn had proposed that very “awesome” idea of his, what kind of person would he be to turn her down?

“It's fine,” he grumbled but tried not to give away his uneasiness about this whole situation in his quivering voice. “Get in the car.”

 

↞♠♠↠

 

I never thought that I would be able to feel my body ache in places where I didn't even know I had muscles.

It is also a weird feeling to have my body clad in sweat that doesn't come from a horrible nightmare for once.

But the weirdest part of it all is that I feel good. Good. Refreshed. Energetic. Yet almost too tired to stand on my own wobbly legs.

To be honest, I first didn't really like the idea of having to take a shower with a bunch of girls I didn't know after practice, but as it turns out, there are no more than two more girls in the team besides me. I should really pay more attention to my surrounding sometimes, but during basketball practice I was more focused on not passing out from lack of oxygen in my lungs, really. I still managed to keep up with the others from the team, so that's at least something I'm pretty proud of.

So that thing in the shower was also mostly spend in silence since none of us had really any business with the other and therefore we didn't have anything to talk about. Nor did we have this urgent desire to look the other in the eye while they were shampooing their naked body.

I also only know one of the two girls by her name, and that is Susan Strong. And as her name already _strongly_ implies, she's one hell of a woman.

Probably over 6 feet tall and could easily lift two football players with only the help of her pinky finger. She's impressively massive but at the same time also pretty good-looking. She has blonde hair reaching just above her shoulders, which she mostly wears in a ponytail and a side-cut on the left side of her head, reminding me of sophomore year when I had almost half of my head shaved too.

But that was because I thought it would make me look pretty rebellious and punk rock. Better not think about that right now, it's just bringing back too many awful memories that I have been trying to suppress for a long time.

So, Susan Strong is, as I said, one hell of a woman - and was sadly also the target of some pretty biased people that made sure to ruin the girl’s high school life in every way.

Because, you see, Susan is a lesbian. And was outed at this school about a year ago by the school’s number one brainless fuckboy “Brad”, the captain of Ooo High School’s football team.

Well, if you think outing someone without their permission is already bad, what do you think when I tell you that they - that means Brad and his little gang - did it by spraying

 

**“SUSAN STRONG IS A FUCKING DYKE”**

 

all across the lockers? That means everyone who entered the school was met with black paint outing one particularly innocent, not well-known and also pretty shy student at this school because she had done exactly … nothing.

I don't even know how they found that out, but outing someone who's never done anything to you is just completely insane and fucked up. But then again, what would you expect from someone like Brad, who has never heard of the word “consequence”.   
He has everything - tons of money from his parents, more muscles than brain, a lot of girls around him, and he is also the captain of the football team - of course he doesn't care about the damage he inflicts with his mindless behavior when no one is going to tell him that he is doing something extremely fucked up.

Since we're living in a small town - really, Ooo is so tiny you probably won't be able to spot it on a map -  such things get spread around pretty fast, and by the end of the day, even my father knew who Susan Strong was.

A girl that did nothing wrong, ridiculed and embarrassed by some closed-minded, homophobic dimwits having nothing better to do but ruining people's lives. That's Ooo High School for you.

The more I think about it, the more I feel stupid for when I was slinging my arm around Bonnibel’s shoulder earlier that day.

Just what was I thinking doing something like that at school?

_“You weren't thinking anything, because that's something you're pretty good at, remember?”_

Maybe she didn't show it as much but she probably felt really uncomfortable when I did that, too. And people noticed it as well.  
Jesus, did I really have to get so close her? As much as I liked having her in my arm, it could have triggered a lot of rumors that could harm her, even if that action was absolutely meant to be something between friends.

I mean, the eerie Vampire Queen getting comfortable around the Princess of the high school all of a sudden? That plot sounded more like something out of a heteronormative romance novel, if you ask me.

But what if these rumors would actually read more into that scene than just some friendly display of affection? With some more digging, they could fucking expose me.

They outed Susan Strong for fun. What the hell would they do to me then?

...Wow, am I really worried about what people will think about me?

Well, _hold on_ , I'm more worried about what people will think about _Bonnibel_. Since she would be the one becoming a target because of my reckless behavior.

But jeez, why do I care?  What these people think or say means absolutely no shit!  
And I could take them on any time.

_“But people could think that we have something going on. What kind of impact would that have on Bonnibel’s reputation, you think? If the whole school suddenly thinks she's gay? And that’s all because you couldn't keep your fingers off of her. She will start avoiding you because she will try to keep up her good reputation, since she's popular and has at least some sort of sense for responsibility unlike you. She will hate on you with the others because you like her that way to avoid being left out. She will be disgusted because you thought you had even the slightest bit of a chance with her. It's just not normal to like a girl like that, Abadeer, don’t you get it? And imagine what dad would say if he found out that you fuck with girls too. Daughter of the owner of one of the most influential insurance companies in the world, who already has a criminal record, was almost expelled from school twice and is now also - surprise, surprise! - a raging homosexual. Because, do you think the news would actually make this extra step to call you a bisexual because representation actually matters? Because bisexuality sounds less sinful and perverted? Really? You know how the news work, Abadeer. And dad will turn his back on you even more.”_

“Fuck!!” I hiss and slam my fist angrily against one of the purple lockers in the locker room before I let my head tiredly rest against it. Having the cold metal press against my forehead is one of the coping mechanisms that I use to calm down from impeding stress. And right now, the stress feels like a stranger knocking at the door of my house with ill intent, and I can sense it all the way up to my bedroom, where I’m hiding in my closet, like some horribly foul stench.

How did it come to this? How could I think that I even had a chance with Princess Bubblegum of all things? That there could even be something more between us? We barely know each other!

I don't have a chance. I never had.

She's just being nice to me, ‘s all. There's nothing between us. She isn't even gay. Probably. She's just being nice. Nothing more.

And even if she were gay, our relationship wouldn't stand a chance. Not at this school, not in this town. Although I might not give a shit about what people will say, Bonnibel will. I’m certain that she has an image to maintain, too, whereas I fucked mine up pretty early already.

There's just no basis, no ground for this relationship to stand on.

But I'm going too far, again, aren't I? Bonnibel and I are not even really friends, aren't we?  
It's just a crush that I have that makes me daydream about all those moments with us together that will never be reality, anyway.

“ _S_ o, _stop dreaming, Abadeer,”_ my mind cautions me.  
_“You know that fantasizing about something unrealistic will only result in disappointment, so just stop it.”_

Yeah, my mind is right. And that's why I lift my head off the locker and sling my bag over my shoulder, putting more thought into my movements than necessary to avoid drifting back into this void of racing thoughts that are dangerously destructive.

Exhausted not only from basketball practice but also from the little soliloquy, I exit the school. The other girls have already left and I even think that the one girl I don't know was trying to get away as fast as possible because of me. I can't blame her.  

When I exit the gym I have to shield my eyes from the low hanging sun. Today is the last day of summer, and now, in the end, it's trying its hardest to be the last of its kind, even though the morning had started out more cloudy and rainy than the afternoon would have let on, and was probably announcing what will await us in the next few weeks when fall would take over.

The warmth of the late afternoon sun is not as unbearable as during midday, it feeling more like a comfortable jacket around your skin that you don't need to be wearing. I also enjoy looking at the yellow tinted surroundings that will soon turn a deep orange before the last beams of sunlight will disappear behind the mountains surrounding us. And even then I am pretty certain that it'll still be comfortably warm outside.

The parking lot is already empty and I wonder when the last time was that I have seen it like this. I huff a little bit angrily when I realize that the sun must have been roasting my car and that I will feel like being inside a toaster in a moment. And of course the AC needs to be repaired too, so that's only leaving rolled down windows as the last option to avoid melting into a puddle in my car.

I wonder what Bonnibel was thinking when I pulled her closer. I'm probably getting on her nerves already. We’ve only known each other for, like, two weeks and I'm already pulling a stunt like that? And then I’m giving her the cold shoulder? I’m such a mess.

But she still asked me to sit with her during lunch, so it couldn't have been that bad, right?

_“It was a friendly gesture of her because she felt sorry for you, nothing more, Abadeer.”_

I can't believe that I'm still worried about that stuff. Something is seriously wrong with me these days. Maybe I'm going to die?  Is that why my body's being so insane lately? Is it trying to tell me something?

While I am again focussing on my little slip from earlier, I don't notice that I'm actually not hearing the engine of my car coming to live even after I turned the key around a third time. It is only after the fourth attempt that I realize that my car isn’t going to start.

“Oh, come on!” I snap and punch the steering wheel with uprising frustration. Judging by the sound that the engine wasn't making, I get the feeling that my battery must be dead. Checking out my button for the light confirms that this is just the case.

Great, I forgot to turn off my lights. That leaves me absolutely stranded here. At school. The worst place possible for this kind of thing to happen.

I get out of the car and slam the door shut harshly as if to show my car how frustrated I am at it for dying on me like this.

However, when I take a look at it, it's old, rusty and battered appearance coming from the years of it's long usage, and its fading color that was once a beautiful red, I feel sorry for slamming the door so forcefully. Isn't that just ridiculous? But it has been such a reliable companion along the way, and really, the battery being dead was totally my own fault.

“That's probably because I used you as an excuse for the principal, huh?” I say and ruffle my hair. Everyone is already gone, I will have to call a breakdown service. And that's gonna take at least an hour for them to arrive here.

I groan and turn around in search for maybe someone that hasn't left the school just yet, even though I think I haven't seen any other car parked here anymore besides mine.

But then I spot the impossible. Another car, parked a good distance away from mine. A wave of hope swifts over my senses and I squint my eyes to see if someone's inside it, because I think I saw some movement in it just now.

Indeed I can spot someone sitting inside the car, so with a good amount of relief now calming me down I make my way over there in hope that whoever is in that car can be of help to me.

As I get closer, I can make out who the people inside the car are. And when I see who it is, I almost stop myself from going any further.

It's mustache-boy and his brother. At least I think that the guy in the backseat is his brother. And I know that mustache-boy doesn't like being around me one bit. They are probably gonna turn me down. So should I really bother?

Fuck it. I don’t wanna wait around for an hour. And maybe I can intimidate mustache-boy into helping me out as a last resort.

As I approach, I notice that one of my shoes isn’t properly tied since I almost fucking tripped when I stepped on it. I bend down to fix it, which turns out to be a fricking stupid idea when I suddenly feel my practice-strained legs magically turn into jelly. In the next moment, I feel myself collapsing like a folding chair, and before I can comprehend what’s happening, I’m toppling over, scratching my knee and the palms of my hands along the concrete and then my face violently connects with the passenger door of mustache-boy’s car.

All I can make out are dark blotches when I open my eyes, and there’s this disgusting taste of copper on my tongue and a hot and wet sensation running over my mouth and chin.  
With an agonizing groan not nearly close to describing how I really felt in that moment, I pick myself up from the ground and then I hear the most girliest scream I have ever witnessed, muffled by the windows of the car that just destroyed my nose.

“Marceline! Are you okay!?” There are two things that startle me, even though that them knowing my name should have been a given by now. What I didn’t expect is the worried tone and face when I look at the brother that is sitting in the back of the car, having rolled down his window and holding a frantically screaming and squirming mustache-boy in his arm, who is claiming that he’s under a vampire attack.

Clutching my nose that’s relentlessly dripping blood on my shirt, I growl, “I just hit my nose on your stupid car. And my car won’t turn on, must have forgotten to turn off the lights. And uh… thank you.”

More surprisingly, I’m also provided with tissues that I instantly stuff into my nose.  
Mustache-boy has also stopped screaming by now and is instead asking me how in the world I crushed my nose with the help of their car. But that’s none of their business, I just wanna go home.

I knew it would be a waste of time to ask them for help.

However, mustache-boy’s brother is pretty eager to be helping me out, obviously to his older brother’s annoyance. But as it turns out, they can’t help me with the car either, and I even think that this is not just meant to be a weak excuse to get rid of me but the actual truth.

“Why don’t we give you a ride and bring the gear with us tomorrow? We can totally pick you up on our way to school, too!” After an awkward stretch of silence, I’m more than startled by that generous invitation from the younger brother. And to be honest, I just wanna get away from here as fast as possible, so why not?

I ask mustache-boy if that’s okay with him, and even though it is clearly not, I find myself sitting next to the younger brother in the backseat of their car.

“I’m Finn by the way, Jake’s younger brother.”

I have never seen someone with a wider smile than this young fella is offering me right now and it looks just a little bit hurtful the way it is splitting his face in half.

“Nice to meet you, Finn.” I might be rude sometimes and actually don't wanna have anything to do with popular people like Finn and his brother Jake, but I've still got manners.

“Where you live?” Came the icy and disinterested question from the front and I can understand that Jake wants to get rid of me as fast as possible. I didn't want to be in this kind of situation either.

“One block after Tree Trunks. Cave Road.”  
I see him nod when I take a glance at the rear view mirror.

“Hold up,” Finn suddenly says, “You like fries, Marceline?”  
“Uh, yes?” Why in the world is he asking me that?

“Perfect. Jake, you know where we're going before we drop Marceline off.”  
There's a smile on his face that looked like an excited grin morphed with a daring expression.  
I can hear Jake’s teeth grinding even from where I am sitting in the back of the car but he turns the engine on and surprisingly replies with a sharp “fine.”

So much for getting this over with quickly. There's still the possibility of me leaving the car right now and call a breakdown service, but for whatever reason I can't seem to understand my body refuses to get out of the car.

“Where are we going exactly?” I ask Finn, deciding that it is probably easier to talk to him instead of Jake, who's pulling out of the school's parking lot and onto the road. It's not really considerate of them to just take me off to a place without my consent, but since I'm the one intruding on their afternoon plans, I don't want to make myself even less liked than before.

“Jake and I always get ourselves something to eat after practice, so we drive to this really awesome pizza place out of town. It simply has the best fries and pizza, which is why all the teens from the other towns gather up there too,” Finn explains to me and I have an idea of which place he's talking about. And then his expression shifts into one of realization that he hasn't asked me if I actually wanted to go with them.

“I hope that's okay with you?”

“You mean Sassy’s Pizza, right?” I ask.

“Yeah, exactly! Have you been there before?”

I nod, a faint memory creeping into my mind of a time when I used to go there almost every day with my friends and-

“ _No. Stop thinking about him.”_

“It's been a while though. But I could really use some fries right now, so why not.”

“Great.” Finn is grinning again, something that doesn't usually happen that often with people when I'm around. It makes me wonder if he is even aware about who exactly the person is that's now sitting next to him, pulling blood-soaked tissues out of her nose and then stuffing them into the pockets of her jeans because she has no fucking idea where else to put them.

No, most of the people are acting more like Jake. Distant, wary and judging.  
I can see it in the curl of his eyebrows that he's not satisfied to have me in the car with them and also going to join their after-practice ritual.

But I am here now, and there's this question probing in the back of my head that I would really like to have answered.

“Hey Jake, can I ask you a question?”

I see him getting tense and shooting me an insecure look in the mirror.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Why the mustache?”

He frowns and his lips turn into a thin line.  
Quickly, I add,  “I mean, I think it's pretty cool.” I really think that it is.  
“Just what made you grow one? It's pretty brave to do that around people that are so basic and making fun of anyone who isn't like them.”

There's confusion on his face as well as insecurity now when my question takes a different turn than he had expected.  
But it's the truth. Why would someone like him want to wear a mustache that makes him look like he's in his mid-thirties and father of three kids when he could look just like any of the other fuckboys at this school? It would make him invisible, invulnerable and popular.

“Well, yeah, I'm pretty brave.” I see him puff out his chest proudly and relax into his seat now that he knows that I'm not gonna make fun of him. He's probably surprised to hear a compliment from me of all people, too. Even Finn looked shocked.

“I don't know, I think it looks cool. Manly. Without it I would look like a baby.” He's scratching his mustache.

“Yeah, it is pretty cool. At least it doesn't make you look as boring as the others.”

“Thanks…?” He eyes me though the mirror trying to read my face. I see Finn flashing him a grin and a thumbs up.

“So, how old are you, Marceline?” Finn asks, obviously trying to get into some smalltalk since we all know absolutely nothing about each other. Since I have to spend my time playing basketball with them twice if not three times a week from now on, I really don't mind getting to know them.

“Eighteen, but I'm gonna turn nineteen soon. You two?”

“Oh, when’s your birthday? I have to make sure to congratulate you!”

This is really weird. Why is he being so nice to me?  The kindest that people are to me is when they for once don't slam the school entrance door in my face and instead let me pass through it like a normal person.

And when they go out on dates with me for spilling milk all over them.

I wonder what Bonnie’s doing right now.

I take my phone out of my jeans.  
No new messages.

I open our chat.

The last text makes my stomach tingle and my heart leap for a split second.

 _Princess_ _(2:37 am)  
__“See you tomorrow, Marceline.”_

Should I apologize to her?

“I'm sixteen and Jake’s eighteen. His birthday was last month.”

“Happy belated birthday,” I say and Jake nods again.  
I remember hearing that there was a huge party going on last month. They invited almost half of the seniors and juniors combined I believe. I also remember that I was sitting at home that night, wiping my greasy fingers from the flaming hot Cheetos I was eating on my sweatpants while watching horror movies by myself.

“My birthday is next month,” he doesn't need to know much more. My birthday really isn't that special nor important. I'm probably not even going to celebrate it.

We spend the rest of the ride exchanging more basic information about each other, and by the time we arrive at Sassy’s, I now know that Jake has been in a relationship with his girlfriend Lady for over three years, that Finn takes regularly jogs before school because he wants to stay fit, and that both of them are really bad at math, which is why Jake’s girlfriend is tutoring them.

Ah, yeah. I still need to find a tutor.

I look at my phone again. Still no message.

I shouldn’t write to her anymore. It's not gonna get us anywhere.

“What do you wanna eat, I'm gonna pay for you.”  
I almost trip over my own two feet when I hear Finn inviting me to pay for my meal. I just hope that his naïve kindness is not going to be a disadvantage for him in the future.  
I really appreciate the offer and somehow, it also makes me feel warm inside. He really is a nice guy, isn’t he?

I never thought that I would be feeling so comfortable around them. But even Jake had asked me a few questions in the car and I have the feeling that the tension between us eased up a little.

“You really don't have to do that, you know?”

“Even if you say no, he's still going to pay,” Jake says as we join the line to place our orders.

The place really is brimming with high schoolers and loud chatting in every corner and I remember how we used to sit at the table at the panorama window, poking fun at the people that were passing by outside because they weren't… us.

We felt like the world belonged to us. We felt so invincible.

Ironically enough, the table is occupied by exactly such people that we used to make fun of and it almost feels as if life is laughing at me.

“I’ll have the chili cheese fries.”

Both boys gape at me and I wonder what I did wrong now.

“Are you really sure? They're, like, super hot,” Finn cautions me which I find rather cute.

“It's what I used to eat here all the time,” I say and shrug. I like that they're pretty hot.

“Damn. The only other person I know that likes to eat them is-”

“Phoebe,” Jake interrupts his brother bitterly, face stern.  
Great, now I also remind of his mortal enemy or whoever the fuck Phoebe is.

When we finally get a place where we sit down with our food, I ask, “So, who’s Phoebe and what did she do to you?”

“She’s the captain of Aaa High School’s basketball team. In every tournament we usually make up the spots of the top two. So, she and her team is, like, our arch-enemy.”  
Jake is stuffing some fries in his mouth before he continues. “Sometimes they win, sometimes we do. As of now, its a tie,” then he turns pretty serious, “We really need to win this year. It’s the final tournament in our high school career, and I don’t wanna be walking out of it as the loser.”

"Sounds pretty serious. So, am I supposed to hate Phoebe too now?” I jokingly say and take the first bite of my chili fries. It elicits this pleasant burn on my tongue that Finn has warned me about and I love it.

“Of course,” Jake says, “She’s our worst enemy.”

“I don’t really think that you need to hate someone just because you’re on opposite teams,” Finn interjects.

“But that’s not how it works, Finn. Sports is all about loving your team and hating on all the others, isn’t it?” I ask, mouth stuffed with delicious chili flavored fries.

“Exactly!” Jake exclaims passionately and then looks a little taken aback because he has actually agreed on something with me. I can’t help it but I smugly grin to myself.

“By the way, Marcy-” I freeze and so does Finn at the mention of my nickname. “I mean, is it okay if I call you that? It’s so much shorter than Marceline and I-”

“It’s fine.” I even give him a gentle smile.

If anyone had told me that one day I would be eating fries together with Finn and Jake and have Finn call me by my nickname, I would have declared them delusional. But now, here I am.

 

Life’s so fucking weird.

 

“So, uh, Anyway. Why didn’t you join the team earlier? We needed you, you are totes amazeballs!”

Besides my skin crawling back at the word “amazeballs”, I find his compliment flattering. And to be honest, I don’t see why I shouldn’t be honest with them.  
“I kinda had an agreement with the school that I could do extracurricular at another place because it doesn’t really allow people to indulge in music much. And band practice is horrible, I’mma be honest.”

Both of them are silently munching on their fries and actually up to hearing me talk about my stuff. So after having tested the waters, I dive right in.  
“But then the thing with Bonnie happened and now the principal is pressuring me into doing all this stuff, like, joining a club and such things, so he doesn’t expel me. Even though I absolutely had nothing to do with Bonnie’s hair catching on fire, okay.”  

“... Bonnie?” Finn makes sure that he’s heard right. “You’re calling her by her actual name? I thought she didn’t like that.”

He looks at his brother, who just shrugs. I remember the conversation I had with Bonnibel in my car on our way to Tree Trunks. And I have actually no idea how much the guys know about Bonnibel and my… relationship? As I said, we’re not even friends, so…

“Even if the principal is making you do all this stuff, I’m glad that you joined our team. Right, Jake?”

The older brother huffs. “Yeah. I hate that stupid asshat principal. If you think you have any privileges now because you joined our team, you are wrong. He’ll make us go to practice to compete in tournaments when there’s classes and they will grade tests and other stuff we’ve missed with an F. That’s the kind of asshole he is.” 

“But when there’s practice, we can’t be in classes? How’s that supposed to be fair then?” I ask, frowning.

“It’s not. In any way. He really is useless in his position. Our teambus is falling apart and he won’t give us the money to repair it. Instead, he puts the money in new  PCs and other unnecessary technology. How are we supposed to go to competitions if the bus could be killing us on the way there? And he even expects us to win, otherwise he thinks of the basketball club as absolutely useless. Can you believe that? Basketball being a waste of time?”

Yep, that’s where that generous sponsorship of my dad is going. I definitely agree with Jake that Lemongrab is as useless as someone can be in his position but I still feel bad that my dad’s kinda financing that whole conspiracy.

“Well, glad to hear that I’m not the only one hating him.”

After saying that, Jake gives me a look that I can’t really decipher. It looks accusing maybe.  
“What?” I ask him when I can’t figure it out.

“I don’ wanna sound rude, but isn’t it kinda your fault that he’s at our school now?”

That stings not only a little but an awful lot.  
Everyone thinks that it was my fault that the last principal left the school.  
Little do they understand that the whole thing that happened there was meant to harm me more than the principal. And the repercussions are what brought me into this exact situation now.

“Hey, Jake, don’t be mean,” Finn scolds his brother and looks at me worriedly, trying to figure out if what his brother has said actually hurt me. It does.

“I want to clear one thing up. It wasn’t me who ruined the car. It was planned as a revenge act against me.”

That shocks both of them, although I think Jake’s not really buying it. It is the truth, though. But of course, who’s gonna believe me? The police didn’t, the principal didn’t and my dad didn’t believe me.

I’m just really thankful for Finn’s nice nature and his obvious desire to have as much peace as possible between the people he’s hanging out with.  
“That sounds bad. I didn’t know that. But… let’s try talking about happier things, shouldn’t we?” He gives us a smile filled with uncertainty but I am glad that he’s trying to diffuse the situation.

Just then a new wave of teenagers enters the fast food restaurant chatting loudly among each other.

And suddenly, I see all the color draining from Jake’s face, just like that time in the hallway when he realized that it had been me who had spilled strawberry milk over Bonnibel.

“Oh no, oh no, no, no,” Jake mumbles and even Finn goes something like “ooh man.”

Extremely confused by that strange behavior, I turn around to inspect the group of people that has just entered the restaurant. It’s a group of girls, most of them dressed in leather jackets, and despite the instant urge to bolt right out of the restaurant and throw up in some nearby garbage can when I see these jackets, I can only wonder why they’re wearing them even during summer. Aren’t they dying from the heat? I know that I used to.  
Once I’ve seen the jackets however, I know that these people mean trouble when messed with. I know perfectly well what kind of people they are.

While two of the three girls look like nothing out of the ordinary, it is the third girl that immediately catches everyone’s attention in the restaurant. It’s because of her hair; a vibrant and intense red that looks like a flame the way it is positioned in a bun on her head. The bright color draws everyone in, and besides it being so intense and unusual, it looks fitting for the woman who strolled into the restaurant like she owned it just now.

 

“Phoebe.”

 

When I turn back around, I see Jake sinking into his seat, face as white as a sheet. Even Finn looks absolutely defensive with his shoulders and his jaw tensed.

Suddenly, I feel a presence next to me that hasn't been there before.

“Well, if that isn't Finn and Jakey-boy!”  
When I look to the side, I am met with that smug grin from the redhead called Phoebe, but I'm startled when I see that she isn't looking at the boys - no, she's looking at me, as if inspecting me thoroughly. Her face let's a certain familiarity rise up inside me and I wonder if we've met before.

“Heard that you're struggling with forming a team,” she is sulking but I have a feeling that it's not at all meant to be an open display of disappointment. Nope, it is straight up mockery. I instantly decide that this girl is putting me on edge and I want her to fuck off.

“Isn't that a shame, girls?” She asks the two other girls she's with who both release some overtly disappointed noises at that.

“We are-” Finn is trying to speak up but I am faster, although having to swallow the desire to punch all three of these bitches in their ugly faces.  
“We’re not fucking struggling with anything but enjoying our meal because some stupid bitches are kinda intruding on something here, but apparently they're too fucking dense to understand that we’re not in the mood for some stupid small talk, ” I spit and make sure to lock eyes with Phoebe.

Her expression now changes from a mocking sulk to brief surprise and then a perfect sneer.

“Oh, I'm sorry, but I can't remember talking to you? Why are you even hanging out with these losers, anyway?” She gives the boys a condescending nod which sends my nerves on fire.

“Don’t fucking call them losers, you arrogant punk troll.”

This time I'm standing up, only inches separating me and Phoebe when I hunch over her and neither of us is showing any sign that we’re about to back down now.

I hear Finn and Jake telling us to calm down as the tension is rising between Phoebe and me and the boys are even trying to convince me that I should just ignore her. But when her friends keep calling me a “stupid bitch” and say that I “should stop overreacting”, it all just makes me want to drag this out as long as it needs until I make Phoebe and her henchman leave this place and get out of my sight at once, even if it means that I'll have to kick some asses.

“Don't tell me,” she begins with a shit-eating grin spreading across her face and turns toward the boys, “that you actually completed your team with _her?”_

“So, what if?” I snarl, painfully clenching my fists together. The longer I stare into her face, the more does this familiarity from earlier try to ring a bell in my mind. We've met before, but I can't remember where.

“Well, I'll have to congratulate you. That officially makes you Queen of the losers, _Marceline._ ”

I freeze and so do Jake and Finn behind me and I can see it in the satisfied spark in her eyes that that's exactly what Phoebe had wanted. She knew from the beginning that I've forgotten our apparent encounter and now uses it as a way to intimidate me;  to show me that she knows who I am and that it makes her have an advantage as long as I can't figure out where we've met before.

Of course, the others could have told her about me, too. He is probably still rambling on about how I betrayed him and that I should go eat shit and just die in a hole somewhere already.

But I get the feeling that this is not the case here.

I know her.

And I have a vague feeling that her hostility is aimed at me in that manner because I forgot.

“I would be glad to be Queen of the losers anytime as long as I get to be with them and not some fake-ass snakes like your bunch over there,” now it's my time to give these fugly bitches my condescending nod of disapproval.  
“You do realize that they're the type to stab you in the back the second you become an inconvenience to them, right?”

I look her deep in the eyes in the hopes to see her understand that I'm not talking about basketball or childish friendships here but dead serious gang affairs.

The dirty smirk on her face just seems to widen.  
“Oh, you know that too well, don't you? Poor girl.”  
She chuckles.  
“But you know as well as I do that it was your own damn fault.”

That's enough to make me snap and grab her by her collar, making everybody around us gasp and the boys jump to my side to place strong hands on my shoulders in an attempt to hinder me from making this situation escalate.

“Okay, enough!” Jake growls and pushes himself between us, holding us both at arm’s length. I feel Finn carefully pulling at my arm and navigating me outside while Jake gives Phoebe one last fierce stare.

“We’re not letting ourselves down on your level, _Phoebe_. This can wait until we're on the court.”

Phoebe shrugs nonchalantly and arrogantly answers, “Whatever you say, Jakey-boy.”

And then I hear her and her stupid friends laugh until the door of the restaurant closes after Jake exited through it.

“Are you okay?” Finn asks and startles me as I'm still not used to actually having him or his brother care about me. But even Jake looks worried over me and then I hear him complain about Phoebe getting herself into businesses that she should better stay the fuck out of.

When we’re back in the car, I instantly feel the adrenaline drain from my body and leaving me a trembling and tired mess from getting so emotionally worked up just now combined with the weariness from basketball practice earlier that day. I let myself collapse into the backseat of the car while Finn gets in the seat next to me and Jake’s buckling up in the front.

“Listen, guys. I'm sorry for almost escalating there,” I say as I pinch the bridge of my nose when I feel an unwelcome headache invading my head.

“Hey, it's fine. We appreciate you standing up for us,” Finn lends me a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, no biggie. I have to hold myself back too everytime I see her,” Jake says as he turns the key and the car springs to live.

We pull onto the highway leading us back home, and unlike before we spent the ride in a very drained silence.

But even if that might sound stupid now, in that moment I felt really glad that I got to spend the day together with them besides what happened at the restaurant just now.

I feel like I could really get used to this.  


 


	9. World Gone Mad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo guuuys. So very sorry about the delay but this chapter is huuge. It is a whole 40 pages and I really tried to get everything across the way I had planned it out.  
> We hit 200 kudos just recently and I want to thank all of you for that!! It means so much to me!  
> Also shout-out to the people that commented on this fic so far and especially to those who even reached out to me over tumblr (which is kouhasbuttcheek btw) 
> 
> I want to include one reminder as well: What the different characters of my story think, say or do does not correlate with my opinions, feelings, believes etc. (if you wanna know what my opinions on different topics are, talk to me, ask me questions, get to know me via tumblr)
> 
> There will be Content Warnings for this chapter!
> 
> Content Warning: suicide mentioned, mention of child-neglect, ADHD mentioned, autism mentioned

We stop in front of my house, the moonlight and faint, yellow street lights reverberating from its white facade, coating it with a ghostly, silver glow. Jake, Finn and I have almost spent the complete ride in silence, the exhaustion from basketball practice wearing down on us and the encounter with Phoebe having raised a few questions nobody had dared to ask.

For some unknown reason, the ride hadn’t felt uncomfortable at all as I had first anticipated. No, it had almost felt as if the boys were too polite to further talk about the fight that had unfolded at the restaurant, and I was really thankful for that. It even made Jake shine in a new and more sympathetic light for me.

“You don’t actually have to pick me up tomorrow. I’ll find another way to get to school,” I say when I unbuckle. I really don’t want to cause them any more trouble or make them go out of their way for me. I don’t feel like I have any right to expect more of them; after all, we basically got to know each other today after years of careful and mutual avoidance.

“Hey, it’s totes fine. Really, don’t sweat it. We will pick you up tomorrow and bring the gear with us.” Finn smiled at me again, although it looked a little tiring on him for the first time this day.

I sigh as I see that I probably won’t be able to convince the boy that he should just leave me alone.

“Finn, give ‘er your number, just in case,” Jake says.

We both exchange numbers and then I open the door and crawl out of the car.  
“Thank you, guys. And uh… Again, sorry for earlier.” I nervously scratch the spot on my neck where my _bitemarks_ are and catch a quick sight of Jake eyeing me suspiciously through the rolled down driver’s window (I learnt that their AC didn’t work either, which was quite the funny coincidence) as if he’s still not fully convinced that I’m just a normal human being like him and his brother and not some one-thousand-year-old, deadly bloodsucker.

“At least now I know that we’re on the same page,” Jake mumbles without facing me after he had quickly turned away when I caught him staring at me. “That’s a plus, Abadeer.”

“Tsk.” I chuckle and I see him suppressing the upwards curl of the corner of his lips. “Well, see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Marcy!” Finn shouts before I shut the backdoor and Jake nods at me, starting the car. I step on the sidewalk and wait until they’ve turned around the corner before I make my way up to the house.

It’s a cozy evening, colder by a couple of degrees than when I left the school but still comfortably warm, just as I had expected. Birds are chirping in the trees behind the house, and the black silhouettes of crows sitting on the power pole across the street are screeching at me at the top of their lungs when I disturb their light evening slumber. Bad omen or not, I like the liveliness of all the birds more or less singing together and producing this exclusively evening-filling concert.

I always enjoyed a lot of noise around me. Silence is something almost unbearable for me.

Which is why the first step into my house raises confusion, uneasiness and dread inside me.

Normally, I would come home to my dad either sitting in front of his laptop in the kitchen, typing away on something work-related while eating takeaway food, or I would hear him frantically talking to somebody on his work phone. Sometimes he would be too busy to greet me, which was fine by me as I would usually go to the kitchen and take the other package of takeaway food that he has brought for me and then disappear inside my room, still hearing his typing or shouting inside the phone through my door. I wouldn’t mind it, if anything I liked the feeling of knowing that somebody was at home, no matter how strained our relationship was. Yeah, we didn’t really talk to each other and basically just accepted the presence of the other in the house, but I liked the noise he produced. Even though I would drown it out with putting some headphones in and listening to some nice music or by using one of my various instruments scattered across my room to play myself. Just knowing that somebody was there… it was comforting. And I need that.

But now, all I’m greeted with is a silent, dark and empty house.

The silence inside is almost deafening, like a blanket being pulled over me and drowning out any noise and movement from the outside. Do you know the feeling when, as a kid, you hid under your blanket to read books or because you were afraid of the thing from under your bed suddenly coming out and grabbing you, so you created that totally secluded space under it that felt like a whole other plane of existence?

Well, that’s how the quiet and darkness stretching through the house is feeling for me right now. But in an absolutely negative sense. This silence, this blanket…  is suffocating me.

I hate silence. Silence makes me feel alone. Helpless. A feeling of dread and distress that I would do anything for to be able to forget.

While quietly standing in the hallway, my eyes suddenly land on something that makes my throat clogged with a giant knot.

From where I’m standing in the hall, I have a pretty good view inside the kitchen and the table where my dad would usually be eating his takeaway at this time.  
Only that today, the kitchen is dark and empty except for the white table, illuminated by the light from outside, and I see the outline of a sheet of paper lying on it with what I assume is a stack of money accompanying it.

Clenching my fists in unpleasant anticipation about what the note would be saying, I stiffly walk deeper into the house despite my fight-or-flight sense kicking in.

In the kitchen, I take a hesitant look at the paper and feel the anger and sadness hit me like a powerful punch to my guts.

 

_Pumpkin,_

_I have to leave for a business trip on short notice. Here’s some money for food and anything you need while I’m gone._

_Love, Dad._

 

I take the paper and crumble it. Then I throw it away in the trash bin next to the fridge before I turn around, drop my bag on the floor and grab my skateboard, which had been leaning by the wall at the door in exchange and leave.

Tears are gathering in the corners of my eyes, and they are dangerously close to overflowing. My teeth are grinding against each other and my heart is beating in my throat.

The crows on the power pole are towering over me like cloaked demons now as they watch me leave the house and making my way down the road.

Every time my left foot connects with the concrete to push me forward on my skateboard, I put more force into it, trying to get rid of my emotions by transforming them into strength that I put into my movement.

Movement makes me forget. The burning of my thighs makes me forget.

It takes me less than five minutes to arrive at the corner where Tree Trunks comes into sight with its vividness and the buzzing of people that are sitting outside under terrace heaters, enjoying some nice meals and some live music from someone playing on a piano inside.  
The windows that separate the outside and inside area are widely open, so everyone can enjoy the live music and the last warm nights of the year all the same.

Despite it being the middle of the week, a lot of people are crowding the little café-slash-bar-slash-restaurant. And I’m convinced that none of them are Ooo inhabitants.

The noise of the people is calming me down, but the message from my dad is still playing on my mind over and over again, clouding it, making everything around me seem as if I'm in a trance.

I hazily feel myself step down from my board when I reach the entrance and put it under my arm. I decide to get as near to the piano as I can. Luckily, I get a table nearest to the small stage where I can listen to the sound of the elegant instrument in peace and quiet.

Absentmindedly, but still as if on command, I order a strawberry milkshake when the waitress approaches me, and soon after I can slurp on one of my favorite beverages in the world.

The strawberry milkshake, the soft but almost melancholic sound of the piece played on the piano, and the chatting of the people around me finally make me relax.  

I put my skateboard under the table and let my feet rest on it, rolling it from one side to the other.

“Bad day, my dear?”

It startles me deeply to be feeling a hand on my shoulder all of a sudden, but when I realize to whom this hand belongs, I relax my shoulders and sigh dramatically.  
“Glob, Tree Trunks, you scared the shi-, err, _hell_ out of me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey!” Tree Trunks laughs lightly, her wrinkled face lighting up with joy, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Tree Trunks is - as you may have already guessed - the owner of this beautiful place, and she is the perfect image of the typical, kind-hearted grandma that everyone may be thinking of when they have to imagine one.

She has short, grey hair that she used to dye blonde until a few years ago, warm and reassuring grandma hands, and is always keen on filling your stomach with delicious food. Even though she is doing it in the big way.

She’s the town’s favorite grandma, responsible for feeding all of Ooo and most often even people streaming in from other neighboring towns because they’ve heard of how amazing her café is.

When I was little, I used to spend almost every day at Tree Trunks, since I have always been living just down the road from here. She had started out very small with a little café run by her and her husband and a few teenagers trying to save up some money after school or college.

Even during that time had it been famous for its amazing apple pie, but over the years and - sadly - after her husband had died by committing suicide, she had perfected other recipes as well, and that’s how her business became not only well-known because of her kind grandma-nature and that famous apple pie, but also for the amazing and diverse food.

It had been a huge shock to all of us when we heard about her husband’s death. Someone like Tree Trunks, who always puts others first and is in general very accepting of others, shouldn't have to go through such a painful blow of fate. But depression, which her husband suffered from, is a severe illness that could hit any of us, unfortunately. It's a monster that's grip is so tight that most people will fall victim to it so easily.

She had trouble recovering at first, which I don't blame her for, of course, but she caught herself and I think she has pretty much done the best out of the situation that she possibly could have. She grew stronger and found something that she loves to do until the day she will pass away; something that might not completely fill the hole that the loss of her husband had left behind, but something that might make the pain more bearable. And that’s really just admirable.

I exhale sharply through my nostrils when the note creeps its way back into my mind.

But is it really just the note that made me come here? Of course, it’s upsetting. It’s upsetting, because it again just proved to me how lowly my dad thinks of me. I don’t even deserve a little chat where he elucidates his absence and informs me that I will have to be on my own again. For how long even?

A few days? A week?

I think it will be and stay a surprise until the very end. And then, he will just pretend that it was okay to leave me alone with myself, that everything is absolutely fine as it is because I’m old enough to take care of myself and that he doesn’t need to talk to me about his work. I’m just his daughter, living with him in this secluded, little town in a house with so many overwhelming secrets neither of us dares to address and pretending that it was perfectly fine for a daughter and her father to only get involved with each other through scarce small talk here and there.

Did he also think that when I was only ten years old? That it would be okay to leave me alone and devastated after what happened to my mother? In his eyes, had I been old enough to cope with these things and the absence of my father all by myself?

I feel hot blood rise to my cheeks, and I can hear it violently pound in my ears.

But is it only that what I’m so upset about?

Because suddenly, an image of Bonnibel floods my mind, and how sad and confused she had looked when I turned her down in the hallway. Denied her access to my personality.

But isn’t it reasonable that I don’t want my crush to know about how awful I used to be?

Whatever, it doesn’t even matter anymore, since I came to the conclusion that it would be better to stop getting involved with her, anyway. That’s the best solution. We both will graduate next year and I won’t stand her in the way of that.

Eventually, I answer Tree Trunk’s question from before my train of thought picked up, “It was a rough day, yeah.”

Tree Trunk’s hand leaves my shoulder and instead, she presses the cold palm of her right hand against my forehead.

“Oh dear, you’re burning up. Don’t become sick, will ya? Maybe I should bring you a steaming-hot chamomile tea instead?”

I feel a little bit sad when her hand suddenly leaves my forehead but I shake my head. “Don’t worry, I’m not sick. Just… stressed, I guess.”

“You shouldn't even know what stress is at your age,” Tree Trunks says with a sad smile scurrying over her lips. “You should enjoy your life and do something you find fun in. You’re still young, there’s so much to explore and experience for you still. Which reminds me,” she is now leaning in closer to me, “I heard you were here with a lovely girl not a long time ago. Is she someone special?”

Her genuine curiosity amuses me, because that is so like her. I wonder who told her about my da-... the apology to Bonnibel.

There’s a sudden and strong stinging pain in my chest as I remember that day and how I forgot to bring my wallet with me. Glob, I had never fucked up this badly in my life before.

Still, the day had been nice and I will probably never forget it. It was the only time I got to enjoy with my crush after all.

“I owed her something. I think I still do, but we…,” I pause myself, not able to actually bring it over my tongue that I should better leave her alone. “You know how people are here, Tree Trunks. It wouldn’t be a good idea.” I finish with a sad smile that vanishes almost instantly. Even pretending is almost impossible now, huh?

“Sweety, what other people say should not keep you from pursuing something that makes you happy. These people have absolutely no right to tell you how to live your life. Even so, you know that you always have a place here if it becomes too much, right?”

The hand is back on my shoulder now, this time with a strong and reassuring grip to it. The elderly woman is mustering me and all I can see in her eyes is warmth.

“Yeah, I know that. Thank you,” I breathe. My brain doesn’t even know which kind of emotion it should make me feel right now. Everything is colliding, clashing and confusing.

Then Tree Trunk says, “Also, I’m really looking forward to your performance. That is going to be such a wonderful evening. Wonderful, I say. You and your friends are such powerful and energetic little humans, I cannot wait to see you on stage.”

“Heh, we’re also really pumped to be on stage. We will not disappoint, I promise,” I reply with a boost of confidence. “We will fill your pockets with so much money that you can bathe in it at the end of the night.”

“That’s the way I like you, dear,” she hums contently. “Now, I gotta go back to the kitchen, the kiddos need a helping hand this evening. Also, that one is on the house.” She points at my half-empty strawberry milkshake.

“That’s not-”

“Shh. Enjoy the evening, honey. Try not to worry for a moment, alright?” She winks at me. I can only smile.

“Thanks.”

Tree Trunks disappears inside the kitchen again and I’m left alone, with my thoughts, the strawberry milkshake, my skateboard and the vibrating notes of the piano being carried into the night by the gentle breeze whiffing through the restaurant and connecting us all.

I take a deep breath and exhale for what feels like a minute.   
Coming here made me feel better, but every time I lose myself in my thoughts again, there’s this unbearable pulling in my stomach.  
Knowing that no one will be home when I return makes me long for staying out just a little bit longer.

I have an idea where I can spend some peace and quiet after finishing my drink, and when I finish slurping the last remains of the milkshake, I grab my board and take off into the opposite direction of my home.

It’s a cloudless evening and the first stars are already visible in the night sky above me. The smell of pine trees fills my nose when I pass through a lonely tree-lined road.

Ooo becomes so silent at night. As if there was a curfew for everyone that forbid the people to leave their houses after 8 pm.

People don’t know what they were missing out on, but maybe it’s better this way. They wouldn’t even know how to treasure feeling like the last person on earth, enjoying the sounds of nature and nature alone that would be way too foreign and scary for them.

I enjoy them. Because even when you're alone, you don't feel lonely. There's life around you; all around you.

The wind blows through my hair when I roll over the pavement and I love it.

The rattling of my skateboard’s wheels fills the night once again. While I roll through the silent alley, the street lamps turn on one after the other wherever I pass by. On the board, with a gentle wind cooling me down, and the noise of my wheels  accompanied by the concert of nature, I feel like I have no worries in the world.

But then, there's a house coming into view, and I feel like my legs are gonna give in again as they instantly turn into wobbly jelly.

Of course. How could I forget?

I brake and stop in the middle of the street, a pebble stone walkway stretching up to a huge mansion to my right.

It's Bonnibel’s house. Where I dropped her off two weeks ago. Where she silently walked the pebble stone walkway up without a second glance at me in the car.

Today it had been me who couldn't spare her a second glance.

I see light in a room downstairs and another glimmer of light on the left side of the house in a room upstairs.   
Is that her room? Were her parents downstairs, sipping some fancy wine while Bonnibel was doing homework all by herself in her room like the utter nerd that she is?

Somehow I can picture this situation just perfectly in my head, because it would be so fitting. And I wonder if she and her parents are ignoring each other as well, since they're business people like my dad, too. Are there actually families that still talk to each other?

I really wonder what her home is like. And what her parents are like.

And I wonder what she's up to right now in her room. Maybe she isn’t doing homework but some really messed up experiments?

Damn, I'm so weak. I just can't stop thinking about her, can I?  

But of course I had to forget that her house lies right on the way to the cliff.

I know that my brain is the thing I should listen to, and its explicitly telling me to just stay away from her. But my body - my heart - it’s longing for more contact; more time to spend together with her. So much that I feel my pair of eyes starting to drift up and down the bigass fence that’s surrounding her property.

I could make it over that thing in a few seconds. Easy.

_“What the hell are you thinking? Do you really want to break into her house just to see her and scare the living shit out of her? She will think that you stalk her!”_

True, this doesn’t sound very sane.

Glob, I’m so, so weak.  
And I don’t want to be weak. Not when I have someone to protect. From rumors, from trouble… from all the things that will happen because of me.

Biting down on my lip because it is physically painful to turn away from something that my body longs for, I decide to leave her house behind me. And with that, I will leave Bonnibel Butler behind me as well.

 

«♣»«♣»

  
  
The air on top of the cliff is a lot more crips than the walls of stale and heated air through the pine tree alleys.

It gives me goosebumps and sends a quick shiver up my spine. Maybe I should have brought a jacket after all. Well, it’s too late now.

Maybe I should tell you a little bit about that “cliff” that I’m standing on at the moment, overlooking the small town that is Ooo. Ooo is pretty much surrounded by mountains, leaving us kind of separated from the rest of the world. Which makes this place quite boring, safe for the arcade - which’s hugeass and dazzling neon-lighted sign is probably the most interesting and eye-catching feature that the town has to offer besides the McDonald’s sign a few blocks down-, the cinema and, well, the so-called “Cherry Popper Cliff”. Judging by the name, you can already imagine the things that “go down” here. Hah.

The Cherry Popper Cliff is really just a pretty steep rock formation that’s accessible by car or foot when you take a stony and sandy trail up through a small forest. And on top of it, you’ll find the best view over Ooo that you can have. And even though I’m not such a big fan of my hometown, really, it does look the best from up above. Especially at night.

The street lights are weaving paths that, at the end of each of them, lead to the town hall, which is lit up until 12 pm every day. Ooo can’t really afford leaving every streetlight and otherwise unnecessary light sources on during the night. But as long as the lights are still on, you can easily spot the core of the town, where the streetlights all interconnect like veins to the heart. Another building that is glowing like a lit candle against the night is Ooo’s church. Which I take no interest in at all. Still, it will make most of Ooo disappear every Sunday for a few hours, what I take as the perfect opportunity to freely roam the streets and do whatever I want.

Everyone needs a taste of freedom once in a while, especially when you’re locked up inside a Glob-forsaken town that has so little to offer. Which is also the biggest reason why people migrate and settle down in Aaa, our neighboring town that’s far bigger and even offers a decent university and community college. And apparently the most stuck-up basketball team in this rotten world.

Anyway.  
I came here to think about some better stuff and not something that will make my blood boil again.

At the moment, I just want to enjoy leaning against the railing that’s separating me from the deadly slope a few feet in front of me, while glancing down at a sleepy town and having a cold wind brush over my exposed skin.

I can’t keep myself from it, so I let go of a pretty elongated and satisfying sigh that’s magically lifting all the stress from the day off of me for the moment. My teeth make the air escaping through my mouth whistle while I exhale.

Thankfully, the Cherry Popper Cliff is mostly not occupied by horny teenagers going down each other in the middle of the week. And as I said, most people that live here won’t leave their houses after 8 pm, so this makes this place pretty deserted at this time.

It is a beautiful spot; probably the most beautiful in all of Ooo. Yet, it also has some tragic stories to tell, nevertheless. I will just say this much: The railing has not always been there. But as everything usually goes this way, people will only think about precautions until after the damage has already been done.

But I just told myself that I don’t want to think about depressing shit right now, so I’ll stop here. I just have a lot to complain about, you know?

I move over to the bench that’s placed a few feet away from the railing and where my skateboard is leaning against, and slump down on it like an exhausted bag of potatoes. I remember how I used to come here every time some shit went down in my life. Because it’s calming. However, I kind of regret forgetting to take my headphones with me, since I left them behind in my bag at home. Some music wouldn’t be such a bad idea right now.

I take my phone out anyway. There’s no one around, so I can just let some music play on speaker.  
But I feel an annoying sting in my chest when I unlock the screen to find absolutely no message on it for me or whatsoever. Yeah, stupid, I know.

Still, it hurts that no one cares or even asks about my whereabouts or feels maybe slightly worried that I’m not home at 8:45 pm on a school’s night. But of course, no one knows that I’m not home, because there’s no one waiting for me there.

Alright, I give up. Today, I just seem incapable of coming up with some non-depressing thoughts.  
Okay then, let the emotion freight train run over me, I guess.

I thought Bonnibel would write to me, dammit.  
I thought that maybe she would be at least a little bit interested in me. Texting with her yesterday… had been so much fun. We found so much to talk about. I still had hope that she would write to me, even after turning her down at school.

_“Why don’t you just write to her when it bothers you this much?”_

Yeah, why you ask, brain?  
I’ll tell you why, even though you’re the one that is perfectly aware of the reason I didn’t want to text her first.

Because I’m stupid and I just wanted to see if there’s actually anyone out there finding at least a little bit of interest in me besides my childhood friends. Someone that would make a minimal effort to establish a conversation with me at least.

I just want a sign that someone cares. But this will never happen, I guess.

It would have to be me who texts her first again. As always.  
I have not often made it this far with another person, and Keila is the only exception where it didn’t work out this way either, but it has always been me who puts in so much effort only to be let down in the end.

_“Maybe it wasn’t enough effort?”_

Ah, come on, shut up!  
It was exhausting, emotionally draining and yet… I just don’t want this anymore.

_“Well, dad doesn’t care about you either, so why would anybody else?”_

Fuck. Why… why can’t I just turn off these thoughts?

That’s not even fucking true.  
It’s not true.  
It’s not true.  
It’s not tr-

“Marcy?”

I almost stop breathing when I hear someone calling my name from behind me. I recognize the voice immediately, but after I quickly put my phone back into my pocket, I still crane my neck so that I can look behind me to confirm that I’m not just suddenly starting to hear voices in my head.

“Kei...?” It takes me a while before I can fully comprehend that it is indeed my best friend who has just emerged from in between the treeline behind me like some ghostly apparition.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask. Of course, I’m confused as to what the reason of her sudden appearance here could mean.

But when she steps closer, I can tell that she’s quickly rubbing at her eyes and wiping her nose clean.

She has been crying.

And I suddenly have a very good idea as to why she came to this cliff.

“Well, I actually wanted to ask you the same damn thing,” she says with a light laugh that I know she’s forcing out of herself. Keila has always been like that. Trying to hide her real emotions away from everyone. Because showing real emotions means weakness.

“Ah you know, I’m enjoying the subtle breeze playing on my skin while staring at the endless purple-colored sky above my head that’s connecting all of us foolish meatbags on this miserable planet,” I say and spread my arms out to underline the endlessness of the sky that isn’t even purple either.

Still, I get Keila to playfully punch my arm when she finally sits down next to me on the rotting bench that has probably seen better days.  
“Of course you would be doing just that, you enviable philosopher,” Keila scoffs but turns her head to look up at the sky nonetheless.

In that moment, I finally realize the position that I have somehow taken on without my knowledge.  
My legs are raised to my chest while my arms are protectly hugging them closer to my body. I feel how tensely my arms have wrapped around my legs when I sense a burning pain in my hand and upper arms after I eventually unclench my whole, quivering body.

Keila has stopped staring at the sky and is now looking at me, and even though there is no immediate light source around I can still see the red shimmer that had replaced the white around her hazel eyes. Hazel eyes that are looking suspiciously restless to me today.

I know why she is here. Why am I trying to fool myself into believing something else?

It’s the same reason why I’m here.

“Keila.” I’m trying to make my voice sound soft but resolute at the same time. I want her to know that I’m there for her; but that she also doesn’t need to be afraid of talking to me.

“You know that you can tell me anything you need to talk about, right?”  
She is now avoiding my eyes when she momentarily turns her face away from me. I know that she must be nibbling on her lips, too. She always does that when she’s nervous.

I decide to wait before I try to reaffirm what I asked her, but even after what feels like an eternity to me, she doesn’t answer.  
_“Right_ _?”_ I ask again, this time with pressure.

My best friend closes her eyes but nods, although very slowly and hesitantly.

“Good,” I say. I can sense just how tense she is even though our bodies are barely touching each other. Only our knees are in direct contact, but then I spot her hand that is gripping the edge of the bench like her life depended on it, and I immediately put my hand on top of hers.

Her hand is warm. And so soft. The complete opposite of my gnarly, calloused hands from playing guitar and other instruments during all those years.  
I always liked that about Kei. Her hands always reminded me of my mother’s. They were warm and soft, too. And my pale, small hand would always create this contrast in her warm brown, bigger one. It didn’t look like they fit at all; but at the same time, they fit just perfectly somehow.  
The only difference to my mother’s hands was that Keila has cute freckles coating her hands either right on top of them or even in between her fingers. Freckles that are painted on her face in a jumble as well, and I know that she also has freckles on her shoulders and knees.

As I put my hand on top of Keila’s and lose myself in thoughts about my mother on the spot, she relaxes just a little bit but takes my hand in hers entirely, in a firm grip that tells me that she is looking for reassurance.  
I look at our hands, and then I look back at her face that is still turned away from mine.

“So… what happened? I’m here for you, alright?”

Kei exhales sharply just like I did a few minutes prior.  
She is taking a few first tries only to stop before even a word can leave her mouth. But eventually, she finds a beginning,

“I feel so dumb, Marcy. I just… I don’t think I can do anything right anymore. No, all I do is… disappoint people. I’m just one big disappointment, you see,” she says and then stops, and I can see her tongue run over her full lips to dampen them.

“One big disappointment,” she repeats, it coming out as a whisper that could have only been an agonizing echo inside her head.

She tightens the grip on my hand and I immediately put my other hand on top of hers as well.  
“That’s not true, Kei. You know you never disappoint me,” I say with a smirk but that only makes her snort.

“That’s cute, but Marcy, I don’t know… what I should do with myself. I just graduated and now… Yeah, now what? I didn’t make it into college. I will probably never make it into college. We still have… so many medical bills and hospital bills to pay off and my mom can’t even afford to repair her car that is totally falling apart but that she needs to go to her part-time job in the next town. A fucking, degrading part-time job since she can’t work full time because… of me. I’m only in the way. Always. Always, Marcy.”

There is one single tear running down her cheek, stopping for a split moment on the end of her rounded chin before it finally drops down on my hand that is holding Kei’s trembling one in it.

“Everyone I know has a grip on their life, is going to college or traveling around the world and I… can’t do fucking anything but work at a cheap fast food restaurant. I want to go to college; I really want to go there so fucking bad. But my family can’t afford it, my grades were too bad to get me scholarships… I’m stranded here and can’t even earn money for myself because my mother needs all the help she can get. And now… there’s also her new _‘boyfriend’_.”

Keila spits that word out as if its meant as the worst insult in this world and scares me shitless when she simultaneously jumps up from the bench and starts pacing back and forth in front of me. Her eyebrows are furrowed and her arms are crossed as her pace becomes faster. It worries me a lot that her mother’s new lover is making her this upset, and I can only guess why. But I don’t want to guess, so I collect myself and instead ask.

“What’s up with that new boyfriend?”

Again, my best friend takes her time to give me an answer, but I let her take as much time as she needs. Her feet shuffle along the sandy floor and pick up dust, resulting in several grey clouds to rise up around her.

“He’s not good for her. That fucking, whiteass - excuse me, Marcy - douchebag is the worst of his sort that I’ve ever seen in my life. He is only ordering her around in the household, always rubbing into her face that he’s the one who is paying the rent, that he is the one buying us food because my mom isn’t able to earn as much, and every penny she earns is immediately used to pay off hospital bills. I’m trying my best to help her out, you know?”

Kei abruptly stops and is looking at me with the saddest expression I have ever witnessed on her face. Her lower lip is quivering and she is clearly trying to blink the incoming tears away.

“I’m really trying my best, but-” she interrupts herself when she swallows down a knot in her throat of a size I can hardly imagine, “But… My best is never enough.”

It hurts to see my best friend like this. She did have episodes like these in the past too, but they never really involved anything that severe. I wasn’t even aware of how much she is self-doubting herself and how much she is actually suffering inside. I feel so unbelievably stupid for not noticing it sooner.

“Kei, listen,” I say as she begins to pace again, “You know that this is not your fault. I know that people will always want you to function perfectly, but no one can do that.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s my fault or not. I’m in the way. This dumbass made this very clear to me today.” A bitter laugh escapes her throat.

“Why, what did he say?” I ask, feeling my anger grow the more she talks about that asshole.

“Hah, a lot of things,” Kei immediately snaps, a bitterness sounding in her voice that is even foreign to me. She is nibbling on her lip, her feet now kicking little rocks out of her way. I don’t tell her to calm down and sit back down next to me, because I know that moving around is her own way of letting go of pent-up stress.

“Do you want to tell me what he said to you? It’s also okay if you don’t,” I carefully approach her, afraid that what that motherfucker said was something that Keila doesn’t need to hear from someone who doesn’t know her or her condition.

“First of all, he said that I should move out,” Kei begins and leaves me befuddled for a second. What in the world gives him the right to say that to her?!

“So, yeah, he’s trying to kick me out of the house. Out of MY house, where I was fucking born and raised and have spent my entire life. But, that’s not all, oh no, that’s not all.”

I already brace myself for what comes next, anticipating the worst, to be completely honest.

“He said - and I’ll recite word for word -  that ‘He will leave my mom if I don’t move out since he just can’t stand living with an autistic no-good anymore that won’t get her shit together and still depended on her mommy like a little child.’”

“What the fuck?!” Now it’s me who’s jumping up from the bench, fist clenched tightly so that all the blood is draining from them. “What the actual fuck!? This guy is definitely retarded or braindead or something! You’re not fucking autistic just because you have ADHD!”

“Well, he thinks that people with ADHD are automatically counted as autistic and he even tried to argue with me about that. And my mother did nothing about it. She just started crying but she still let him insult me as he wished. And then he threatened to leave my mom if I don’t move out because apparently he can’t deal with me anymore, since I’m such a horrible child. And my mom did nothing about it…. Nothing.”

Kei’s face is flooded with tears streaming down her cheeks, leaving wet streaks behind on her skin that are glistening in the moonlight. She lets herself sink back on the bench and I follow suit, placing my hands on her shoulders to let her know that I’m there for her. Her face is buried inside her hands as one sob after the other makes her entire body shake.

“Hey, shh,” I whisper as I gently rub her shoulders. I actually suck when it comes to comforting people, but with Kei I know what I have to do to calm her down on demand. “Hey, we will find a solution together, okay? Trust me.”

“She did _nothing_ Marcy. I’m her only child and she did nothing,” she splutters in between sobs and I feel my stomach turn sour. Because I’m angry at her mother and her douchebag lover and because it reminds me of my dad... and how he had abandoned me. I can imagine how helpless and let down Kei must feel when her own mother is turning her back on her all of a sudden.

“She let him insult me, Marcy. He said… so many horrible things. I mean, I get that my mom is financially dependent on him and needs every cent that she can get, but he’s not good for her. He’s a greasy, uneducated bastard that’s only fetishizing her because she’s black. It’s so disgusting, but my mom will let him degrade her because she’s just so desperate at this point,“ Keila explains to me while I’m wiping the tears off of her face as best as I can.

“Before I left to come here she wanted to talk to me. She said that if I move out, I will be freed from all the debts and bills and she won’t ask me to help her with that any longer.” She takes a deep breath. “I have no idea why she told me that. Because she thinks that this is good for me? That leaving me on my own like that would actually help me? Really? I’m horrible on my own, and she knows that. And is she actually thinking that telling me that I don’t need to give her money anymore for something that is my fault is such a relief for me?”

I don’t know what to say to that. I only feel her tensing up again, this time with convulsing anger.

“It’s fucking not! I would rather work my ass dead so that she doesn’t need to depend on this disgusting prick! I would give up all my dreams for her but… She just turned me down. And now I need to find myself a new home.”

She laughs another bitter laugh. “Great. Just great,” she says.  
“I should have stayed with my father after the divorce. I’m so stupid.”

I let it become quiet between us for a bit, giving Keila time to accept and deal with her emotions while I carefully stroke her back and try to find something to say myself.

I notice that she becomes heavier in my arm, and after a moment of surprise, I let her lean against me and rest her head on my shoulder, her black, fluffy locks tickling my face. I can feel the exhaustion radiate from her body.

After a few minutes, I find my voice again.

“That guy really is disgusting. But, as long as your mother is not ready to leave him, it’s better that you stay away from there, I agree. I’m convinced that your mother only wants the best for you. She herself just doesn’t know how to deal with all this stuff. But, I know your mom. And when push comes to shove, she will still be there for you,” I reassure her.  
“And, we will find you a place to stay, I promise. I mean, you could even stay with me for a while, if you want.”

“I already asked Guy if I can stay with him. He rarely uses his own flat because he has to babysit his little cousins at his abuelita’s all the time. And when he doesn’t babysit, he has to work, so at least there is now someone occupying that apartment,” Kei tells me and I’m actually surprised that it’s Guy that she came up with first.

“I see. Well, sounds good. I can help you move in,” I say. “I hope this will make it easier for us to practice together. I know that Guy sometimes tries to skip because he’s an lazy ass.”

“Yeah, he is, isn’t he?” She chuckles in response, which I take as a good sign after that heartfelt breakdown just now. “Before you jump on me because I didn’t ask you first, it’s because you’re living with your dad and I… don’t want to intrude on your… fairly weird relationship.”

“Well,” I say loudly and let go of her to stretch out and let all my joints in my back pop, “you shouldn’t have worried about that. He left me alone again.”

“What? Whaddya mean, he _‘left you alone again’_?” Keila asks, genuinely concerned because I believe she also already knows what this is going to be about.

“I would have showed you the note, but I already got rid of it at home. But, well, my dad left for yet another business trip and he didn’t even bother telling me. All he did was write me a note without any specific information on it and he gave me money for food. Like, this is all that I need to live, right? Some money? A note will do, too, of course. Why would he need to talk to me, right?”

Kei’s look on her face saddens and I can tell that she is feeling sorry for me. But I really feel stupid for getting upset about that bullshit after she told me about much worse stuff going on in her life.

“Nevermind, though. It’s not that important,” I mumble as I kick a stick away that had been lying under the bench.

“Marceline,” Kei says with a somber expression and it startles me that she is using my full name, “we both know that we don’t come to this cliff for fun. It’s bothering you. So, please,” now it’s her who’s taking my hand, “Please tell me what is bothering you. I do know that you can’t stand it when your dad goes on business trips.”

I heave a loud groan because I really don’t like talking about these things. Because, you know, talking about stuff makes it become so real all of a sudden. It’s fine as long as you quietly complain to yourself and suffer alone, but when you actually have to tell someone what’s going on… I feel vulnerable when I do that, even when it’s Kei that I’m talking to.

I bet that’s how she must have felt like just now. She’s so much braver than me, huh?

“Marcy, I know I can trust you. I want you to know that you can trust me, too.”

I nod, even though this is not the problem that I’m concerned about.  
But I guess it won’t hurt too much if I tell her about this stupid, unimportant and childish problem that I’m carrying around with me.  
Simon always said to open up more, so I should at least try to do that with my best friend, right?

“So,” I start, although this feels like the worst beginning to any kind of explanation ever. However, can’t take that back now, can I?

“As you already said, I can’t stand it when my dad goes on business trips. But it’s actually not just that. It’s the way he tells me about it. And that is simply that he doesn’t. Not personally at least. If I’m lucky enough, I will get a phone call while he’s already on the way. Most of the times he will just leave me a note behind where he says that he will be gone for a few days. He doesn’t tell me where he goes or for how long exactly, so I’m always waiting at home, not sure if he will ever come back at all.”

I groan, because this is really something that annoys me to a great amount. Keila squeezes my hand when I do that and I silently thank her for that. It’s good to know that at least someone is there to care after all.

“It’s annoying, you know? He was the one who proposed that I move in with him again after he just abandoned me for fucking six years. I get that he had to deal with some stuff himself and that he is a very busy and important person -  he has always been that. Even when I was still young, I rarely got to see my dad’s face. It had always been only me and my mother or Betty and Simon.

“Anyway, I never understood why he wanted to have me back in the house. We never really talked about anything that happened during those years save for my suspension and the almost expulsion in sophomore year. I never told him that I actually hate him for just disappearing like that. But I guess he can feel that I absolutely can’t stand being around him for more than ten minutes. And that’s a lot.”

This time, I squeeze Kei’s hand to calm down. “There’s so much unresolved tension in this house that it’s suffocating. But at the same time it always kinda comforts me when he’s at home. It’s… so weird. Even though I feel that he doesn’t really care about me and that I’m more like… I don’t know, an obligation to him? Like, something that he somehow has to take care of but doesn't really have the time for nor the desire to care about, I still like having him in the house because then I'm not alone at least. I can't stand being alone,” I whisper, my eyes sternly focused on the dirt around my shoes.

“Sometimes I think that the only reason he came back was because he wants an heir for the company so that it will stay within the family when he retires.”

Kei stays silent, just like me. I bet she also really doesn’t know what to say to this. I don’t think that we’ve been this honest and open to each other for quite some years. And back then, shit hadn’t been that serious as it is now.

“There’s another thing that’s bugging me. And that is that I know that my dad has a shitton of money and influence, but I never really… get to see any of this? For me, it feels like he’s only locking me away in this town because I’m-”

I stop, stuck on the word that wanted to spill out of my mouth so confidently just now before my brain blocked it from escaping and revealing something that has been making my heart sting violently for these past few years.

Keila frowns at me from the side, not able to figure out what it is that I had just wanted to tell her so nonchalantly.  
I now realize that I’ve been rambling on pretty much without a break and that my entire face feels blank, even to me.  
Why, where are the emotions? Where are the tears? I’m sad, I’m angry, so why…?

I swallow and feel the tightness that has wrapped itself around my throat like strong hands trying to strangle me.  
A wind is blowing through the trees just then and is making the leaves rustle behind us, and then I notice that my face is wet. Wet from tears that I haven’t felt flowing down my face because of how my body had become numb when these things kept spilling out of me.

But there’s still this thing I have to speak out.

Why, I don’t really know. Because… do I really want to hear that thought come out of my own mouth and make it this much realer?

No. But it is something that needs to get out.

“I sometimes think that he…” The air suddenly gets stuck in my lungs and it’s hard returning to a steady breathing rhythm.

_“Come on, say it. Admit it already, you damn fool.”_

I close my eyes.

“I think that he never wanted to have me.”   

I can’t hear it but when I open my eyes again my best friend looks as if she has just let go of the sharpest gasp in her entire life. Her mouth is slightly opened in shock and her eyebrows are knitted.

“Marcy, I don’t think that’s true,” she says but I can’t believe her.

I just can’t.

“He doesn’t care one bit about me. It would only make sense,” I snort bitterly, while sensing the sheer endless stream of tears wettening my face.

Keila gets up from the bench and instead resorts to kneeling down in front of me, both of my hands that rested on my lap now locked in hers.  
“Marcy, I firmly believe that this is not true.” With every word that she says, she’s putting more pressure on my hands.  
“You grew up in a loving and caring home. It might be true that your father is very busy, but has the thought never crossed your mind that he is trying to protect you?”

I raise my eyebrows. “Protect me?” I ask.

My friend nods. “Yes. You know how the media works. You know perfectly well what our local news are like! They will tear anyone apart who dances out of line. Imagine if someone found out where you live and that you’re the daughter of such an influential person. Trust me, it’s better that he is keeping you away from that,” Kei says.  
“However, what it doesn’t mean is that your dad doesn’t love you.” She then sighs. “You guys really should talk more.”

I snarl. “Talking to him is impossible. The only talk he knows is small talk. And it always turns out so awkward, too,” I admit, although it’s something that makes me feel extremely embarrassed.

“Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say ‘I love you’ or something like that to me either.”

Kei’s face turns serious. “You two really need to get your shit together. You both went through so much crap, you should comfort and not avoid each other.”

“I don’t know, Kei. I don’t even know if he even really loved my mother,” I scoff sourly.

“Dude, what makes you say that. Seriously?” Kei asks when she can’t understand where all these doubts are suddenly coming from. Little does she know that these are thoughts that have been plaguing me on a daily basis for years.

“He’s always away on his business trips. But are they even real business trips? He has so much money, and I know that he owns some really expensive real estates, too. Do you know how I found that out? Fucking Google. So, who the fuck actually knows what he’s doing there? With however many women?” I growl, the bile rising to my throat, but I swallow it down. “I don’t even fucking know who my father really is at this point. Could be very well possible that he has had other children with other women, too.”  
I rub at my eyes and cheeks when the flow of tears is finally ceasing, and instead I feel my face become hot when the anger consumes me again.

“I’m more than able to believe anything they say about my father at this point. I don’t know who he is at all.”

My best friend looks at me completely baffled and not able to say a word.

There’s a moment when we both struggle to look each other in the eye. I know that Keila is trying to come up with something to comfort me, but I’m not sure if she would even be able to do that.

These are some thoughts that always come up late at night and leave me absolutely sleepless, contributing to my plaguing insomnia. And they’re not even the worst things my mind will bring to the surface at night.

“Listen, I… really don’t know what your dad does on his business trips either, but even if he would throw some bigass parties and do some insane stuff, it doesn’t change the fact that he loved your mother. I know that he did. My mom always told me how your mom would brag about how caring your dad was to her while he was at the same time trying to keep the business running. It was a high-wire act but your mom never complained. Even when you were born, she didn’t complain about him.”

I’m surprised to say the least when she tells me that, because it’s my first time hearing this. “I never knew that.”

Keila is now smiling up at me. “Oh, my mom told me so much about what she and your mom would always gossip about. I can tell you quite a few things, honey.”

Now it’s my turn to be left speechless.

“Believe me, Mar-Mar. Your dad loved your mother and he loves YOU. You both are just very, very awkward and need to talk more. I bet that’s his genes that are making this so hard for the both of you.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I huff in response.  
Keila is now getting back on the bench with me and we both remain silent while watching more and more stars appear in the night sky.

My eyes suddenly shift to the end of the cliff, behind the railing where I leaned against earlier.

“What do you think it feels like to fall down from there?” I ask Keila without a deeper meaning behind it but mere curiosity, I guess.

“Isn’t that how Tree Trunk’s husband killed himself?” Kei asks in return, voice hushed as if what we’re talking about is something illegal.

“Yeah,” I answer flatly. Maybe that’s the reason I want to know? Because I visited Tree Trunks today, like on any other shitty day, and then came here to this cliff; and because my life is only moving in circles and everything comes to together like this in the end every time.

“Was that a fucked up thing to ask?” I ask Kei, who raises her hands above her head in response.

“Marcy, we’re both really fucked up, so does it matter?” She says with a wicked grin lighting up her face.

“Very true,” I reply, a very similar grin spreading across my own face. “I guess it really doesn’t matter.”

“Do you remember that time in middle school when we went to the amusement park?” Kei suddenly asks.

“Yeah, I do.” I nod my head when I remember that day. We had been driving to the amusement park for three hours in a bus without AC or other ventilation and it had been raining throughout the whole ride there. Of course we were all quite annoyed because we thought we wouldn’t be able to go on the rides. That wasn’t the case however, if anything the rain had made the park less visited than usual, and in the middle of the day the sky cleared up and we could almost ride every attraction without having to wait in a line for more than five minutes.

I think that day had been one of my happiest.

“And do you remember that super steep wood rollercoaster?” She asks again and I nod. “I think that’s how it feels like. That weird feeling when your stomach drops and everything in your body starts tingling.” She is now quieter again, probably because we’re still talking about something rather gruesome.

“But I really don’t want to know what it feels like when you’re… well when you hit the ground.”

“I heard that people can pass out from lack of oxygen before the impact,” I state, matter of fact.

My eyes roam over the railing and I remember a debate that had come up after Tree Trunk’s husband had jumped off the cliff.

Some people had demanded that a sign was to be put up here where they would ask people that had the same kind of idea to think about their loved ones again, to consider getting help and that there would always be a solution to their problems. They even wanted to put the numbers for suicide hotlines on it that you could call to get help.  

Because Tree Trunk’s husband hadn’t been the only one to take his life this way.

However, in the end the sign had never made its way up here, because people said they didn’t want to make Ooo’s most wonderful place depressing or act as a deterrent to tourists.  
I get both sides and I honestly don’t know what I would have chosen either.

“I really don’t know what it takes to make people go as far as to jump off a cliff. I really hope I never have to face the same sadness that hey had to suffer through, though,” I whisper, eyes glued to the sharp edges that have patches of grass and even an occasional tree growing dangerously close to the end of them.

“Me neither,” Kei agrees and I notice her leaning back and against me.

“Hey, Marcy?”

I turn my head toward her and she smiles up at me.

“Could you sing for me?” she asks.

I groan.

“Really? Now?”  
But even though I really don’t want to, Kei still eagerly nods at me.

“Please, gurl. I love your voice.” She nudges my arm and pouts.

“I don’t know…” I hesitate.

“It would make me really happy, though,” Kei continues to goose me to sing and I don’t bring it over me to say no.

“Fine. Just one little song, okay?”  
My best friend cheerfully claps her hands together and then loudly says, “Perfect!”

I ponder over what song I should sing but as always I go with the one that would always calm me down after really stressful days.  
It’s a song that means a lot to me; if not the world.

I take a deep breath. And then I start singing.

 

_“Let’s go in the garden_

_You’ll find something waiting_

_Right there where you left it_

_Lying upside down.”_

 

Keila relaxes against me some more, her head again coming to a rest on my shoulder.  
When I look down, I see that her eyes are closed and that she has a content smile on her lips.

 

_“When you finally find it_

_You’ll see how it’s faded_

_The underside is lighter_

_When you turn it around.”_

 

The memories come flooding in as if a dam just broke in my mind. My mother’s warm embrace. Her melodic voice. Her scent of coconut oil that she would put in her hair and that awful cardigan of hers that would always feel so scratchy on my face and skin when she hugged me close to her.

I feel another but lonely tear run down my face.

 

_“Everything stays_

_Right where you left it_

_Everything stays_

_But it still changes_

 

_“Ever so slightly_

_Daily and nightly_

_In little ways_

_When everything… stays.”_

 

I sniff even though there are no tears running down my face anymore and Keila gets up from my shoulder. I feel her sling one arm around me and then she’s hugging me close to her.

“That’s the song that your mom would always sing to you, ain’t it?” She asks and I nod my head.  
“I love it. You would always sing that to me when I came over crying at your house when things would get ugly during my parent’s divorce. It always calmed me down.”

I snort, but still say nothing.

“Thank you, Marcy,” Kei says and this time it is me who leans against her.  
“Always,” I whisper back, closing my eyes and enjoying the feeling of knowing that I have a best friend who would always be there for me.  
I really don’t know what I would do without her.

“Sooo,” said best friend suddenly speaks up again, dragging the word out as long as possible and I have an inkling of what she’s gonna ask me next.  
“How’s it going with the princess?”

Yep. Thought so.

I swear that she’s wiggling her eyebrows again even though I don’t see it.  
The question, though, brings back that nasty pulling in my stomach from earlier.

“I don’t think I should get involved with her.”

This time, I can hear Kei gasp very audibly.  
“Yo, yo, what the hell, Marcy?! Where’s that coming from all of a sudden?”

I scratch my neck. “I would only mean trouble for her, dude. It’s just better this way.”

Kei lets go of me and instead eyes me, confusion the most obvious but not the only emotion displayed on her face. I can see a bit of annoyance mixed in there as well.  
“You’re really dumb if you let her go like this, Marcy. I mean, what the heck?! I feel how hard you’re crushing over her and you even made it as far as to get her number! Why would you suddenly give it all up like that? That’s so not like you, the fuck?”

I shrug. “I don’t really think that she would care that much. She’s pretty popular, so I’m just one more unimportant person in her life.”

Kei gapes at me and looks like a carp with her mouth opening and closing so rhythmically.

“Something happened,” she concludes. “What happened?”

“Nothing, it-” I begin but am also cut off momentarily by my best friend.

“Marcy. Be fucking honest to me.” She looks very stern and determined to pry what happened out of me for whatever it takes.

I struggle because I kinda want to tell her but I also would really like to not think about it. Because, yes, I’m still crushing pretty hard on her and it is painful to resist the urge to write to her, but I want to stay resolute. I don’t want to give in to temptations that easily.

I want her to want to talk to me.

And that’s exactly what I’m telling Keila. I also tell her about what happened at school today and that I was reminded of what the people at this place are capable of when I saw that Susan Strong was on the team.

“I really don’t want her involved in that stuff, you see. I just want to protect her,” I finish and see that my over-energetic friend is sucking on the inside of her cheek when she tries to process everything I just said.

“Well, it does sound pretty tricky, Imma be honest.”  
At least she somehow gets it a little bit.  
“But… fuck what the people say? Who are they to take away your happiness?”

That’s true, they’re nothing more than some brain-deceased, homophobic twats, and what Kei said is exactly what Tree Trunks had said to me earlier, too. I really wish I could follow their way of thinking, but for me there’s just too much on the line here.

“But also,” and then, Kei suddenly slaps my back so hard that I choke on air, “Congratulations on achieving something none of us could! At least one of us belongs to the popular people now.” She is grinning widely and emits a very overwhelming pride.

I only produce a farting sound with my mouth at that.  
“Yeah, sure. I’ve been popular all my life, so.”

“Yeah, but now you’re gonna be a positive kind of popular! And that’s quite something, my friend,” she reassures me, the grin not breaking on her face. I roll my eyes.

“Whatever you say,” I yawn. Glob, I’m pretty tired now. Maybe I could use that to finally get a night of sleep that’s not gonna be interrupted. I like dreamless sleeps the most, and that’s why I sometimes try to stay up as long as I can until I will finally pass out. Because then, I don’t have to dream.

But I’m also dreading going home again. However, at one point tonight I will have to. I can’t leave Jake and Finn hanging tomorrow by not showing up.

Keila is already getting up from the bench as if she’s getting ready to leave.

“So, where are you gonna stay tonight? Already at Guy’s place?” I ask, hoping that I would somehow get her to come home with me.

“Yeah, he left the keys for me under the doormat and he said that would be super convenient for him because he’s awaiting some kinda super important package tomorrow morning. And he has to go to work super early or something,” Kei explains to me while she pops a piece of bubblegum that she’s got from her back pocket in her mouth.  
“Want some too?” She then asks me and holds the package of bubblegum in front of my face.

And my exact face immediately turns sour. Keila realizes her mistake pretty shortly after.  
“Oh, damn. Sorry.”  
That I read the label _“The Candy Kingdom”_ on the wrap doesn’t make this situation any better.

“Err,” my best but clumsy friends says while she ruffles through her puffy, dark locks, “I could probably still come over to your place at some point during the week, don’t worry about that.” Then she smirks at me pretty knowingly.  
“And then we’re gonna have a best friends date night that-”

“-Will definitely not end in netflix and chill according to your definition again. We will take the chill literally this time,” I declare, blushing a little. I can also see the red rise to Keila’s cheeks.

“T-that wasn’t even what I was gonna say…,” she mumbles, hazel eyes carefully avoiding my gaze.  
“I was meaning to say that I’m gonna help you with your crush, man. Because I don’t think you should just end it here.”

I’m already about to retort something when I can suddenly feel a pretty urgent buzz against my ass.

Confused, I fetch my phone from my back pocket, already anticipating some kind of spam mail or whatever.

When my own two eyes read what it is exactly that has made my phone buzz, however, I swear that my heart makes a leap that could have been fatale after today’s events.    
Apparently, Keila recognizes my stunned face and with another knowing smirk, she asks, “Don’t tell me that it’s the princess?”

I can’t tell her no, because it is indeed Bonnibel who has made my phone buzz. Twice, actually.

The two things that popped up on my phone just now were a friend invite on Facebook and a text.

 _Princess (9:35 pm)  
_ _‘Hey.’_

And as I want to tell Keila what the message is saying, another one pops up in our chat.

 _Princess (9:36 pm)  
_ _‘I hope you’re not busy or asleep. If I woke you up, I’m sorry. I just wanted to write because you said we would talk later.’_

And then another one.

 _Princess (9:36 pm)  
_ _‘I hope I’m not annoying you or something… ? If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine, too.’_

I grin because her texting is still so unwaveringly stiff and with correct grammar and stuff. That’s just ridiculous, but also cute.  
I mean, it’s just like her, isn’t it?

“Glob, you’re so done for, dude. You’re grinning like a hobo on acid.”

I give Kei a mocking “Ha.Ha.” and put my phone away again. Then I get up from the bench as well and take my skateboard.

“Uhh, don’t you wanna reply?” Keila asks with a raised eyebrow.

I shake my head. “Nah, I have a better idea.”

Keila tries to figure out what I mean with that while we make our way down the cliff, but I don’t tell her. Because what I’m about to do next is something… that doesn’t sound very sane.

 

«♣»«♣»

  
I jump off my skateboard at a fence that is twice as high as me and carefully scan the area behind and around it, making sure that no one is around who could call the cops on me.

I mean, technically I’m not breaking into the house, I’m just gonna give a friend of mine a visit.  
But why I did it the way I am about to do now would of course only speak against me.

When I see that there’s not a living soul around, and I also take note that the light from downstairs when I passed by earlier had now gone out too, I make my resolve.  
I store my skateboard in one of the bushes next to the entrance gate of the huge mansion and sneak around it to get a safer access from the side where people couldn’t spot me that easily and where I suppose Bonnibel’s room is situated at.

_"Are you really gonna do this, Abadeer?”_

Hell yeah, I am.  
I take a few deep and steadying breaths before my hand grabs at the fence. And then I start climbing.

It’s not as easy as I had anticipated, and when I finally find myself on top of the fence and try to swing my other leg over it as well, I feel all my energy leave my body all of a sudden.

My legs turn into jelly _again_ (and I feel really dumb for forgetting about basketball practice earlier and how I had already collapsed against Finn and Jake’s car, but it’s too late now), and then my eyes rocket toward the stars when I lose grip of the fence and involuntarily descend downward. Fast.

I make a gurgling sound when my back connects with the ground, and I’ve never been less happier about being so directly connected to mother earth as I am now.

There’s a soring pain in my back but I am glad to realize that I’m still able to move my body around. Although it hurts like a bitch when I roll around in the mud like some epileptic ringworm.

But then, it happens.

First, I don’t really get what is going on, because I think that it just suddenly started raining.  
But the sound that’s coming from all around me makes me realize that it’s not rain that’s soaking my clothes. No.

It’s sprinklers.

And second, and after the sprinklers, there’s a blazing ball of light shining at me, and I wonder if that is Glob and I’m about to die.

“ _Guh-!_ ”

When something - or _someone_ \- suddenly starts pulling at my collar and is almost choking me with it, I don’t think I’m about to die anymore, but there’s something gonna happen that’s probably much, much worse. Something super embarrassing.

“Who are you and what are you doing on this property?! You should be aware that I have the right to call the police and restrain you until their arrival!”

It’s a pretty high-pitched male voice that’s speaking to me, but because of all the light around us, I can’t see what the man looks like.

_“Oh Glob, I hope it’s not her dad.”_

“I’ll ask you again: What is your name and what are you doing on this property?!”

I feel how I’m getting dragged by my collar and I clumsily stumble along behind the man.  
When we thankfully come to a sudden halt in front of an entrance and the light finally disappears, I can make out what the man who has been dragging me around looks like, and his face bears absolutely no resemblance to Bonnibel’s at all. What confuses me the most is the very expensive suit that he’s wearing that makes him look like a fucking butler to me.

“Please don’t call the cops!” I hastily say, and put my hands up in defense because I really don’t want them involved in this.

“Well, if you would finally tell me who you ar-”

I cut him off. “Marceline Abadeer. I’m a friend of Bonnibel.”

“Abadeer…?” The man repeats with furrowed eyebrows and I can feel the grip on my collar finally easing up.

“Y-yeah,” I assure him and then I get what must have happened to me just now. Because I get a look at something that the man is holding in his hand: A very bright flashlight.  
I can still hear the sprinklers in the distance and I wonder if this is the only kind of alarm that the Butler mansion has to offer.  
Even though I got caught, it surely isn’t a very effective one.

“You’re one of Bonnibel’s friends, you say?”

I nod, uncomfortably shifting under his gaze. Man, this is really not what I wanted.

_“Bonnibel will definitely hate you for this now.”_

The man scoffs at me pretty arrogantly. “First of all, it’s 10 pm on a school’s night, so shouldn’t you be at home? Second, I don’t ever recall seeing you with Ms Butler or having heard your name mentioned around her, and third, even though you’re a friend of hers, it doesn't give you the right to break into this house.”

I swallow because all that he said truly makes me shine a light of some deranged teenager on drugs or something.

“I will suggest that you leave here at once and never let yourself be seen here again if you don’t want me to call the p-”

But he is cut off again, this time by a voice that makes my heart flutter but at the same time makes this very powerful urge to disappear rise inside me.

“Pepe, what is going on here- Marceline?!”  
Bonnibel is descending down the stairs and I have to avert my eyes immediately because I would probably faint otherwise.

It seems like she just got out of the shower judging by her still dropping bundle of hair on her head and the creamy bathrobe wrapped around her body that still doesn’t cover these elegant, and wonderful legs.

“What’s the meaning of this?” She interrogates further but being the dumb piece of shit that I am, I only manage to give her a small wave and say, “Heey” as if I had not just tried to break into her house.

“Well, Bonnibel, that apparent friend of yours here has just been caught sneaking around the house. She’s claiming that she wanted to visit you,” Pepe explains, of course still not convinced that Bonnibel and I are even friends.  
After this, I doubt that we will become anything like that anymore either.

Bonnibel arrives at the end of the stairs and looks back and forth between the man and I. At first, she doesn’t say anything and instead looks at me a bit indifferently.

Eventually, she says, “Is that so?” She raises an eyebrow at me, demanding me to speak the truth.

“Yeah. I wanted to… visit you. But it’s already so late, so I figured your parents wouldn’t be okay with that, so…”  I trail off, not wanting to admit what I had really wanted to do.

“So?” Both Bonnibel and Pepe ask me and encourage me to go on. Well, no, they’re more like intimidating me into going on with my story.  
I oblige, seeing as this is the best and probably only way to get out of this.

“So, I wanted to visit you through your window so that your parents wouldn’t get wind of what’s going on,” I explain. “Seems that didn’t work out like I thought it would.”

Pepe and her exchange a look but it’s Bonnibel who gives in first, as if Pepe had just telepathically asked her what she wants to do with me.

“Next time, just ring the bell.”

«♣»«♣»

 

This day has been an absolute mess, to say the least. Not even a bad mess, no, not really. It just has been.... messy.

So many things that I never thought would ever happen in my life happened today, and I’m not sure if I’m already fully comprehending what is going on.

First, I join the basketball team, second, I hang out with Finn and Jake, then my dad disappears again and I meet my best friend on the cliff and we both share our deepest and most honest feelings ever, and now, after supposedly breaking into my crush’s house, I find myself on a rosé beanbag in the middle of her room.

I’m sitting almost lifelessly still, towel to dry myself off from the sprinklers attack in my hands while my eyes observe and absorb the whole setting around me.

Her room is kinda how I imagined.  
Her walls are colored in a pastel pink tone that’s really soothing to the eye, her windows are decorated with curtains of the same cream-color as Bonnibel’s bathrobe, and the duvet and her bedsheets almost have the same shade of pink as her room’s walls. However, Bonnibel’s bed is decorated with so many pillows that she can’t possibly use all at once when she goes to sleep, and all of them present some really kitschy petal design that come either in red, white or purple.

Her bed is on the opposite side of where I’m sitting in the beanbag, and to my right there’s a wall of bookshelves towering over me, some titles of the books that I am able to read are in what I suppose is German.  
To my left, there’s a white, very vintage looking desk on which I find papers over papers and even a coffee stain if my eyes aren’t betraying me.  
Hanging on the wall over the desk is a digital clock, and I’m somehow really thankful for that because I think that another ticking clock would have made me jump out the window.

The funniest part about the whole room - besides the posters of various German scientists on her walls like _Alexander and Wilhelm von Humboldt_  or _Friedrich Nietzsche_ (is that even a scientist?) - is that my crush apparently owns a rat.

The Princess owns a rat. That’s something that I couldn’t have come up with in my dreams.  
But then again, she still is a self-proclaimed scientist, so it does make sense. Although I don’t condone animal abuse.  
But looking at the rat, I doesn’t look abused at all, in fact, it looks pretty fat and content.

The door behind me suddenly bursts open and I almost jump out of my seat and skin simultaneously when Bonnibel comes rushing in.  
She’s still dressed in nothing more but that unglobly robe and I really have to hold myself back to stop imagining just how much exposed skin is hiding underneath that piece of clothing. My crush puts a small tray with two hot beverages on her desk and slowly turns around to hand me one.

“Here, it’s chamomile tea,” she says when the steaming hot cup is placed in my hands.

_“Of course it is.”_

Bonnibel sits down on the chair in front of her desk and I notice her taking a spoonful of a white substance out of a glass pot on the tray, which she then puts into her tea.

“Do you want some sugar, too?” She asks me.

“No, thanks. I prefer my tea sugarless,” I reply with a sheepish smile.

She nods and takes a sip. I do the same.

“What in the fudge were you thinking, Marceline?” My crush demands to know and my stomach figuratively drops into my pants.

Is she really angry at me?

_“Well, duh. You broke into her house.”_

I clear my throat before I speak.  
“So, you messaged me that you wanted to talk to me. And now, here I am.”  
I take another quick sip of my tea, not minding that I’m burning my sensitive tongue on it.

Bonnibel squints her eyes at me. “That’s not exactly what I-... You know, what if my parents really had been home and had caught you breaking into the house?! They would probably make it so we would never get to see each other again.” She takes another sip as well, looking away but nevertheless I can sense that she’s really upset about that whole thing.

“Seems I’m pretty lucky. But does that mean you wouldn’t want them to make us avoid each other?” I curiously inquire some more. It would make me really happy if she said yes.

Suddenly, Bonnie puts down her mug and stands up from the chair to walk across the room and toward a dresser that’s right next to her bed. I can’t see her face now which makes it impossible for me to tell what she’s thinking.

“I wouldn’t want that, of course. I only got to know you just recently, it would be a shame.”

I have to make sure to not spill my tea when my hand excitedly starts shaking when she says that. So I put it down on the laminate floor.  
Now that I think about it, my whole body is feeling pretty tired and is shaking uncontrollably. Then I notice that awful ringing in my ears, too.  
Is this really just because of what Bonnie said just now? Is my body really reacting this heavily to her words?

I hear the sound of the dresser being opened and then I watch how Bonnie is taking out some pajamas for herself. After she closes the dresser again, she turns back around to me and her eyes are suddenly turning wide.

“Are you alright, Marceline? You look really pale.” My crush hurries over to me but I put my hands up as if to signal her that it’s nothing serious.

“I’m always pale, that’s quite normal,” I say and awkwardly scratch my neck but Bonnie doesn’t stop.  
She only halts in her movement when she’s right in front of me, eyeing me very suspiciously.

And all of a sudden, her hand is on my cheek and I immediately feel the rapid beating of my heart against my chest. Faster and faster the longer her hand lingers on my cheek. And it does stay on my cheek for an agonizingly long time.  
Her green and intense eyes with that sanity-sucking black hole in the middle are fixating me under a gaze that is shutting my brain down.

I can sense that my mouth is hanging open, but I have lost all control over my body, so I can't bring it to close.

Then, her hand shifts from my cheek to my forehead after she pushes my black bangs out of my face. Her eyebrows furrow.

I feel like fainting. I can smell the same strawberry bubblegum shampoo on her, but this time the smell is so much more intense and fresh because she had lotioned her body with it not longer than half an hour ago.  
Her hair is still wet from the shower, and I shudder when a drop of water connects with my arm that’s resting in my lap.

And then the spell that has my body completely frozen is broken the moment her hand leaves my forehead.

“When was the last time that you ate?” She asks and leaves me befuddled for a moment.  
“Huh?” Is the very intelligent response that I give her in return.

Bonnie huffs, probably exhausted since I’m not answering her questions like she would have wanted me to.  
“You’re paler than usual. Yes, even for your standards. Your temperature is also high and your whole body is trembling. Do you have a headache?”

I can only nod.

“Alright, I will get you something to eat,” she says and takes on a very serious look.

“No, don’t worry, I’m not really hungry,” I interject and wave her off. I really don’t need something to eat, I just need a little rest. Also, I don’t want her to take care of me like that when I just broke into her house like an utter creep.

“I’m fine, really,” I try to convince her and even stand up from the beanbag, opening my arms to show her that everything is okay with me. “See? Everythin’s goo-” However, darkness surrounds me just a second after I stood up and the ringing in my ears becomes almost deafening and unbearable. I can feel my body give in and try to catch onto something before I fall.

“Marceline!” Bonnie shouts and in the next second I notice two hands gripping me and I even get a good grasp on a certain piece of fabric.

I’m just glad that I’m not connected to the ground once again, and when the dark blotches in front of my eyes finally clear up, I see that Bonnibel’s face is very dangerously close to mine. And then I see what the piece of fabric is that I have gotten a grip on: It’s her bathrobe. That I’m tightly pulling away from her body and I force my eyes away from seeing something that I’m not allowed to see. Instead, I let go of her and quickly free myself from her grip.

“T-thanks,” I mumble quietly and search the room for something else to look at.  
I hear Bonnibel adjust her robe and reply with a muffled, “You’re welcome.”

There are a couple of seconds of awkward silence, and while the coffee stain on her table loses its captivation for me, I dare myself to look at her. I almost choke on my spit when I see a deep red flush on her face, but I can only get a glimpse of it before she turns away from me and heads back to her bed where she put her pajamas on a few minutes ago.

“Please sit down and wait for me. I’ll ask Pepe to make you a sandwich. Is turkey okay?” Bonnibel wants to know from me and I’m surprised that she’s not saying something about what happened just now or that she’s not even making me leave after almost tearing that robe down from her.

“Err, it’s fine. I will go home now, I guess.”

“No,” Bonnibel firmly objects. “I can’t possibly let you go home like this. In the end, something might happen to you. I would feel responsible for that, knowing your condition.” She explains, emotionless and combs her hair with a brush that she’s gotten from the night stand that’s on the left-hand side of her bed. While she is brushing her hair, I take notice of the picture frame that’s standing on her nightstand. I can’t really make out the faces, but I can count four people in it. So I assume that it must picture her family.

“So, Pepe,” I start, wanting to find out who exactly the person was that had caught me breaking into the mansion, “Who is he to you? When you say that your family is not at home.”

Bonnibel sighs and I almost regret asking. She answers, nonetheless. “He is my butler and legal guardian while my parents are staying back in Germany.”

This time, my eyes widen. “You’re living by yourself with a butler?”

“Yeah,” she merely answers.

“I guess that can be tough sometimes. My dad’s pretty busy, too.”  
Why the hell am I coming up with my dad now? Just shut your damn mouth, Marceline!

Bonnibel doesn’t answer this time, so I take it as a cue to drop the topic. It’s probably something she doesn’t want to talk about, which I get, absolutely.

She just finishes with putting her hair in a high ponytail, and I swallow. Her neck sure does look delicate.

“I need to change, so…” Bonnibel starts and then trails off. I tilt my head, not immediately getting what she’s implying.

She looks at me now and clears her throat. “Could you maybe…?”

And now the lightbulbs are going off in my head. She wants me to look away.  
“Oh, s-sure.” I turn my back on her and wait that she finishes putting on her pajama.

_“She’s standing naked right behind you. Completely in the nude. You really don’t wanna take a look?”_

Glob, what the hell? I’m not a fucking pervert!

_“Yes, you are.”_

Fine, maybe. But I won’t look, of course.

_“Then just imagine her naked body. You’ve got some material for that just no-”_

“I’m done,” Bonnibel announces. Thank glob.

I turn myself around again and take a good look at her pajama. It’s pink. Surprise, surprise.

“I will tell Pepe to make you a sandwich. Just wait here for a moment, okay?”

“Yeah,” I answer and my crush leaves the room. I sigh in relief.  
Can I really go to school likes this tomorrow? I take look at the clock on the wall.  
10:43 pm. And I still have to get home.

It’s very generous of her to let me stay at her place after all the crap. I would have thrown myself out, I think.

I sit in the beanbag for a couple of minutes not really doing anything but letting my mind trail off when my phone suddenly buzzes as I receive a text from Kei.

 _Kei (10:46 pm)  
_ _‘did’ya reply yet’_

I type in a response.

Marceline (10:46 pm)  
_‘staying at her house rn  
_ told ya I had a better idea’

 _Kei (10:47 pm)  
_ _‘u r WHAT?!!!!’_

It makes me jump again when Bonnibel enters her room once more.  
“There,” she says and hands me the probably most delicious looking turkey sandwich I have ever seen in my life. I can literally feel my eyes sparkling at that wonderful sight.

“Thank you!” I say, maybe a little bit too loud and eagerly. But that sandwich looks just so damn good.

And - spoiler alert - it also taste absolutely amazing. My stomach is really thankful for that sweet gesture.

While I happily munch on my sandwich, Bonnibel sits back down on her chair and sips on her tea. Shit, I absolutely forgot about mine. Thank Glob I didn’t spill it when I almost fainted earlier.

“Can you just explain to me… why exactly you wanted to climb through my window to visit me off all the things you could have done?” the Princess asks and I get a crumb of the sandwich stuck in my throat. I cough a little, and after swallowing down, I answer.

“It’s how they do it in the movies… I thought it would be kinda romantic and cool.” I blush a little and hope to hide it when I concentrate on the rather boring titles of the books on her shelve.

Bonnibel snorts. “Very original.”

I would almost feel butthurt if it weren’t for the little smile on her lips when I face her again. It doesn’t really look mocking, just a little teasing.  
I smirk back. “I know, right?”

When I finish the sandwich, which I really wish I never had finished in the first place, Bonnibel takes the plate out of my hand and places it on the tray along with my mug.

“I’m sorry.” I suddenly spurt out and startle her and myself likewise.  
She confusedly musters me. “For what exactly now?”

I shrug, not really knowing myself. “For everything, I guess. Breaking into your house, keeping you up, making you have to take care of me.” I clench my fists. “And also for kinda turning you down at school, I think.”

“Oh… That’s-”

I interrupt her, however, “It’s not because of you. It’s just… it were things I don’t really want to talk about right now.”

Bonnibel stays quiet. Then she sighs again.  
“I know I was kind of intruding. I think my curiosity got the better of me.”

I chuckle at that. That’s most likely her inner scientist that wants to investigate and observe these kind of things.  
“It’s fine, Frankstein. Don’t sweat it.”

She groans at the nickname. “Please stop it with the distasteful nicknames, will you?”  

“Never,” I grin and she pinches the bridge of her nose in return.  
“You know, maybe I will tell you about all that stuff at one point. I just need a little bit of time for that, ya see?”

“Yeah, I do. I believe it’s something that you would rather tell a friend than a stranger,” she says.

That's the moment, right? That's my chance to finally make sure what we really are to each other.

“Well,” I sheepishly scratch my cheek, “I mean… Wouldn’t you say that we’re something like that already?”

She frowns. “You mean friends?”

“Yes.”

I see her break out into a smile. That she kind of wants to hide under a less impressed facade but I notice it anyway. “I guess you could say that?”

“Awesome,” I honestly reply and the grin from before returns to my face.  
We silently grin to ourselves not really sure how to go on from here. In all honestly, I’m also way too tired for anything else happening on top of everything that happened today, so I take it as my possibly to tell her that I should leave since we both still have school tomorrow.

After Bonnie makes sure that I’m in a good enough condition to make it home safely on my skateboard now, we walk down the stairs and I’m helping her carry the tray.

“Oh, by the way,” I say when I put my shoes on that I had to take off in her house. Some German thing, I guess.

“Yeah, what is it?” Bonnibel asks curiously.

“I made it into the basketball team. And it’s only half as bad as I imagined,” I tell her.

“Oh, that means you’re playing together with Finn and Jake and the others now, right?”

“Yeah,” I affirm. “I more or less voluntarily got to spend the day with them, too. My car broke down and they brought me home. They’re also gonna pick me up tomorrow for school, although I feel kinda bad about that.”

“I could take you with me to school tomorrow, if you don’t want to go with Finn and Jake.”

My heart stops. Did I mishear that or did the Princess really just invite me to pick me up tomorrow?  
“Uh, are you serious?”

Bonnibel rolls her eyes. “Yes, I am serious. I wouldn’t mind it.”

My face is heating up again at the mental image of Bonnie and I in her car, windows rolled down and wind blowing through our hair. The thought of Bonnibel driving a car is kinda hot even. I don’t even know why.

“S-sure. If you want to, you could pick me up instead. I really don’t want to bother the guys some more.”

“Alright, just send me your address when you’re at home and I will pick you up tomorrow. How long does it take to get to school from your place?” my crush wants to know.

“Twenty minutes. I think 7:30 would be fine. I don’t even live that far away from you.”

“Good, then it’s settled,” she smiles at me and then yawns.

“Okay, got it I will go now,” I say teasingly. But I’m also really tired and just longing for my bed.  
“Smartass,” Bonnibel retorts and I click my tongue.  
“Look who’s talking. Anyway, I will see you tomorrow then. Uhm….”

Should I hug her? That’s what friends do, right?

I awkwardly open my arm and take a small step toward her. I don’t think Bonnie really gets what I want from her at first, because she only eyes me with a raised eyebrow.

“Ugh, sorry just…” I swallow my pride and give in to the temptations this time, “Should we… hug?”

_"Oh my Glob, is this some kind of sappy teenager romance novel now?”_

Fuck it, I really just want body contact right now, okay? I don’t care if it’s weird, it’s too late now anyway.

To my relief, Bonnibel only lightly laughs at me but thankfully replies with a simple “Sure.”  
And before I can even comprehend my luck, my crush is squeezing me and I really hope that she doesn’t hear how stupidly fast my heart is beating in my chest.  
I don’t even get to put my arm around her either because I’m too dumbstruck.

“Good night, Marceline,” Bonnibel says and I know that that’s my sign to leave.

“Y-yeah. Night. Sleep tight,” I reply almost robotically.

“You too.” And then, I find myself outside the Butler mansion, head turned up at the sky.

My whole senses are tingling and I’m wondering how I’m gonna make it back home with my completely useless legs now.

I somehow drag myself to the bush where I put my skateboard, but before I get on it, I decide to send Finn a message saying that they don’t need to pick me up tomorrow, but that it would still be nice if they could bring the gear to start my car. I also tell both of the brothers good night. Because I feel like could hug every human being on earth right now.

I type another message, this time to Kei.

Marceline (11:12 pm)  
_‘you’re right I cant give up like that  
Marcys back in the game’_

 _Kei(11:12 pm)  
_ _‘hell yeah babyyy’_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!  
> Sadly, at the beginning of this year a dear friend of our family committed suicide and it left my mother absolutely devastated. Death is not an uncommon thing in life but it does hurt a lot. Please always seek out help if you have any thoughts in this direction. Your friends and family will be thankful. And in the end, I hope you will realize that there are always people around you that care. Because there are. 
> 
> Also I will give you the link to the official Murphy's Law spotify playlist! I always love making those and I hope some of you will listen to it, enjoy it, because the music is what drives this fic and sets the tone for different chapters.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/1143834811/playlist/5k3z11zX1vm1mevHOdKKGD?si=tVrLBOMvQyG4o5tAyLgjLQ


	10. Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's been a while. Sorry to anyone who thought I had disappeared and would abandon this story. This is never gonna happen tho. This fic is like taking a vacation from life to me, I need it for therapeutic reasons (just kidding ... or am I really)  
> Anyway, THEY ARE CANON and I will never stop screaming this at the top of my lungs everyday... inside my head at least. Thanks to all of you who are still sticking by and patiently waiting for updates. And sometimes also reminding that its been a while already sheesh. Anyway, let's give you this chapter!

 

 

  _Badumb… Badumb… Badumb…_

 

Bonnibel’s hand shakily removed itself from the brass doorknob. Her body limply slumped against the door as her legs finally dared to give in when the adrenaline rush soaring through her system came to a sudden end.

Not provided with the energy to keep up her collected attitude any longer, Bonnibel had to steady herself with pushing against the entrance door or else her underside would have probably hit the ground. Additionally, the heat that had suddenly crept up into her head had made her dizzy.

What in the world _had just happened_?

She let a shaky hand run through her still damp hair, reevaluating her more than strange encounter with Marceline just now.

Had Marceline really been sitting in her room, munching on a sandwich and drinking chamomile tea with her at 10 pm on a Wednesday night?   
Did Marceline really almost undress her when Bonnibel had tried to stop her crush from smashing her head on her bedroom’s floor?  
Had the girl really tried to break into her house _just to see her?_

 _They hugged_ just now, for Glob’s sake!

It really had taken everything that Bubblegum had got to stay calm and not let her excitement and hopes get the better of her when Marceline confessed that she had really wanted to climb through her window like the people in those crappy teen romcoms do just because she had wanted to talk to her.

But now, when finally having the safe space that was her home back to herself, she just couldn’t stop her heart from almost jumping out of her chest - it was beating so brutally against her rib-cage that she had to put one of her hands on her chest to convince herself that her heart was still secured inside her body.

Her breaths came out shakily as well.

They had _hugged_.

Marceline had smelled like nature. As if she had spent the majority of the day outside. She had smelled like a cold breeze, sharp and musky like a pine tree. And on top of it all, there was this very unique odor that Bonnibel had never smelled before - _her_ smell. It was strong, it was prominent, but it wasn’t bad.

Bonnibel wished that she could smell it again.

“Are you alright, m’lady?” Pepe broke her out of her reminiscence and quickly, she detached herself from the door and cleared her throat while also forcing all the unnecessary color out of her face that this very simple body contact had gifted her.

“Yes, I’m fine. I will be heading to bed now. You should probably do the same, Pep-But.”

Pepe frowned. “You haven’t called me by that name in a very long time, if I may point out, m’lady.”

Bonnibel chuckled lightly when she saw her butler become a little flustered over a stupid nickname that she had come up with as a kid.

She used to call Pepe her “Peppermint Butler” all the time. A very smart nickname when you think about it, since not only was his name “Pepe” but the red streaks in his advancing gray hair also reminded her of her favorite peppermint candy back when she was younger.

“Quite right. I think I should do it more often. It brings back memories,” Bubblegum smiled and then headed for the stairs. “Good night, Pep-But.”

Her butler bowed deeply. She rolled her eyes at the overt formality but she knew that he couldn’t be helped. “Good night, Bonnibel.”

In her room, Bonnibel closed the door behind her and let go of a sigh. Her eyes wandered to her bean bag and she noticed the imprint that was left behind on it. That’s where crush had been sitting.

While she had undressed herself and got changed on the other side of the room.

It hadn’t been weird, right? Girls undress in front of each other all the time. Also, this was her room. She could choose to do whatever she wanted to do in her own room, couldn’t she?

She wondered if Marceline might have glimpsed at her. And then she wondered if she would have taken a glimpse at Marceline undressing herself so comfortably in her presence.

Bonnibel didn’t like the answer to that question.

Her crush on Marceline was perpetually growing stronger. And that was not good at all.

She couldn’t let herself become distracted like that, but she already felt the punk rock girl taking over every thinkable corner of her mind. Every fantasy seemed to be revolving around her lately.

That was bad. She needed to stay focused on her work. She needed to stay focused on school work, and student council work and representing her family’s company to her ultimate best. Most importantly, she needed her grades to stay as excellent as they were.

The incident with her chemistry teacher earlier that day still weighed down on her heavily. An authority had never raised their voice at her before. She couldn't help but feel utterly ashamed of herself.

She didn't dare to say that it had been solely Marceline's fault that the teacher had scolded her in front of the whole class, however. She was the one who had wanted to talk to Marceline as well. Heck, she had been the one to initiate the conversation!

She had never wanted to talk to someone during class before.

Was that the bad influence that everyone kept warning her about? Was it already rubbing off on her? Because every time she was around Marceline, she just didn't seem to be her usual self. It was as if the fake Vampire Queen was bringing out a side of her that she didn't yet know about. Why, she couldn't quite figure out. Was it because she wanted to impress the girl? Was it because she didn't want the girl to think that she was nothing more but a boring, science-obsessed nerd?

And then suddenly, she felt this unbearable guilt devouring her; sucking her in when she thought back to the way their classmates had looked at them when the teacher had caught them chatting to each other instead of paying attention to the class. The way their eyes had lit up when they saw that Marceline was yet again involved in some kind of trouble.

She also remembered the conversation she had had with the two Mertens’ brothers at lunch.

What Marceline had said earlier only confirmed and enhanced the guilt that had her feeling so sick to her stomach this whole day. The other girl had confessed that the reason the people at school were using her as their target for unhindered hatred was something that she didn't want to talk about at the moment. Yet, Bonnibel again didn't find it in herself to contain herself and had instead investigated the matter behind the other's back.

 

You know, like a traitor.

 

And in the end, it even had been Marceline alone who had apologized for her behavior. “ _Stupid! You couldn’t even apologize for digging your nose into stuff that doesn't concern you!”_

At least Bonnibel now knew why Marceline probably didn't want to talk to her about her past when the things were even slightly as serious as Jake had made them appear to be.

“ _Hold up!”_ She had to stop herself right then.

She was again jumping to conclusions and let what the older Merten's brother had said to her get to her head too easily. After all, Marceline had warned her about the opinions that others might have about her. Bonnibel could only objectively decide what to think about the whole conspiracy around the “Vampire Queen” when she also knew about Marceline’s side of the story. And to hear that, she would have to patiently wait just a little longer.

Besides, she really shouldn’t let herself get too distracted and invested in someone else's life right now when her own was packed with so much things that had to be done. And most importantly, she shouldn't get her hopes up so high about her future with the school’s Vampire Queen as long as she didn’t even know if Marceline was even attracted to… girls.

Bubblegum bit down on her lip harshly and clutched at her pajama.  
More than often enough had she mistaken friendly gestures between her friends as flirting. More than often enough had she interpreted way too much into these small actions among girlfriends that seemed to be more than normal and platonic to them.

Disappointment was a word that felt like an old friend to her that was always coming and going as they wished.

Confusion was the twin brother that was slightly more annoying because she could never figure out how she should interpret certain behaviors around her, let alone how she should behave herself without exposing her feelings when she most likely read something wrong into situations.

But of course her friends never understood just how confusing their profuse display of affection between them was to a newcomer lesbian like her. She couldn’t tell them about her little, dirty secret after all.

Maybe it was wrong to title it as a “dirty” secret. But from what Bubblegum had gathered during all those years that she’s had to hide her feelings, it was only better to keep them to herself as long as she didn't feel entirely safe in her surroundings.

And even if she felt safe… you could never know. Some people might seem as if they’re open minded, but in the end…

She had learned to be more careful around others, to say the least. More involuntarily than anything to be a little bit more specific.  
Hence why she still couldn't bring it over herself to tell Finn and Jake about what was really going on between her and Marceline, which would certainly explain her growing interest in getting to know the other girl better through the help of the two clueless brothers.

She just didn't want to risk any potential friendship that was not only clearly prospering between her and Marceline - but also between her and the Mertens' boys. If Marceline would find out about her crush on her and wouldn't react to it like she deeply wished she would - sure, it would hurt. Quite a lot.  
But if Finn and Jake found out about it and it would make them turn their backs on her - that would hurt her even more. Because she barely knew Marceline, after all. But Finn and Jake had fought themselves deeply into her heart over the past fourteen months and if they left her, a part of her heart would disappear with them.

Bonnibel’s attention was then shifted toward her phone as it suddenly lit up on her desk, signaling that she had received a new message. She felt annoyed when her eyes crossed over the brown stain in the middle of the desk as her eyes drifted to her phone - a result of yet another sleepless night to catch up on her missed deadline. The stain was kind of hard to get out and she felt bad because of it since the very beautiful white of the desk was now stained with an ugly, poop-like brown, reminding her of her failure to keep up with her schedule. Probably a direct result of her getting too distracted by businesses she shouldn't stick her nose in.

Anyway, it surprised her that she wasn’t rushing to her phone as if her life depended on it like she had done the previous night when the only person Bonnibel wanted to talk to for forever now had messaged her for the very first time.

It was probably because she had just told herself to stay focused and to not get too caught up with her stupid and futile crush after all.

However, despite everything she had tried to hammer into her brain that was way more important and needed more of her attention than anything else right now, when she opened the message that had just arrived on her phone, her heart made a little jump in her chest against her will anyway.

 _Marceline(11:20pm)_  
_‘almost home now_  
_kinda hard typing whil on skatehrhbaod’_

Confused but having a slight idea about what was going on with the Vampire Queen after reading the last part of the message, Bonnibel quickly replied.

 _Bonnibel(11:20pm)_  
_‘I hope you didn’t hurt yourself just now? Are you alright? Did you fall down?’_

To her relief, she immediately saw the symbol that was telling her that Marceline was currently typing in a message to her pop up in their chat. Which meant she probably couldn’t have hurt herself that much.

 _Marceline(11:21pm)_  
_‘im fine was just avoiding the little raccoon crossing my path_  
_but dont worry no animals were harmed in the process *thumbs up*’_

Bonnibel snorted at the thought of Marceline dramatically jumping of off her skateboard and doing about three somersaults to avoid hurting the animal in her way.

 

 _Bonnibel(11:22pm)_  
_‘And how many Marcelines were harmed in your very heroic action movie stunt?’_

 _Marceline(11:23pm)  
_ _‘eh thats not important. these few scratches are making no difference to the other scratches that were gained today (speaking of those when i fell from your bigass fence.. and when i slammed my head against finn and jakes car’_

 _Bonnibel(11:24pm)_  
_‘You did what?’_

Bonnibel scoffed at Marceline’s last message. She remembered how the older girl had told her that she had joined the basketball team today.

What Marceline didn’t know, however, was that Bonnibel had been very well aware about that already before the Vampire Queen had even set foot on her property.

 _Marceline(11:26pm)_  
_‘i have no idea what youre talking about ….._  
_anyway_  
_giving you my address now so you can pick me up in your pumpkin carriage tomorrow morning princess’_

Bonnibel knitted her eyebrows together. She might not have a lot of knowledge about Disney movies but she was pretty sure that she saw a mistake here.

 _Bonnibel(11:27pm)_  
_‘I’m pretty sure Cinderella wasn’t a princess?’_

 _Marceline(11:27pm)_  
_‘my house is pretty much the second house on cave road, ill be outside waiting for u so u cant miss me ;)_  
_also u might wanna fact check that one princess’_

And Bonnibel did just that. Quickly opening the browser on her phone, she googled the name “Cinderella” and skimmed through the Wikipedia entry that turned up as one of the very first results. Reading through the plot and taking in the end of the movie, Bonnibel groaned when she found out that she had been partially wrong about that. And she didn't like not being in the right.

 _Bonnibel(11:30pm)_  
_‘Well, technically I wasn't wrong. Cinderella only became a princess until after she married the prince. Before that she hadn't been a princess. To be even more exact, she hadn’t even been a princess at the time she rode the pumpkin carriage to the ball.’_

It took Marceline quite some time to reply to her message after that and the young scientist decided to get herself comfortable in her bed in the meantime after brushing her hair and nuzzling her rat Science before telling him good night.

In bed with the lights turned off, her phone was the only source of light that filled her room.

She was growing a little impatient when her crush was taking longer to reply than she had the nerve for. She also mentally scolded herself for that childish behavior over a stupid text message.

But when there suddenly was a notification popping up on her phone telling her that she had received a new message, she immediately raced to open it. Only to be momentarily disappointed when she saw that it hadn't been Marceline who had replied, but her best friend, Lady.

 _Unicorn(11:46pm)_  
_‘so, is everything okay between you and miss super mysterious vampire queen now?’_

She remembered her talk with Lady earlier this afternoon when both of them had been going over student council work together at her house after school. Bonnibel swallowed, suddenly remembering the other thing that she and her best friend had come across a few hours prior. It made her feel even worse after her encounter with Marceline about an hour ago.

 _Bonnibel(11:47pm)_  
_‘You won't believe it but Marceline actually came to talk to me. And with that I mean that she came to my house. She left only twenty minutes or so ago.”_

She left the part about Marceline actually attempting to break into her house out intentionally. Somehow, she felt like she had to protect the other girl and her weird antics in front of her friend because she didn't want her to think negatively about the punk rocker. Even though she knew that Lady would be the last person to be judging someone.

But, the thing from earlier was still unnerving her deeply and she just thought that Lady didn't need to know what the Vampire Queen had been up to.

 _Unicorn(11:48pm)_  
_‘No way?!! That's great news! That's actually really cute aaaw_  
_So I believe you two like really reaaally talked it out then huuh??’_

Bonnibel blushed.

 _Bonnibel(11:49pm)_  
_‘I have absolutely no idea what you could be implying._  
_But yeah, we talked it out. We even established that we’re… friends now.’_

The emoji-loaded message that followed almost made her phone crash.  
Lady wrote something else after that as well but Bonnibel wouldn't open her message until the next day. Because at the same time, her crush had also finally texted her back.

 _Marceline(11:50pm)_  
_‘yes maybe u r right but the fact that you actually had to google that (and I know for sure that you did dont even try to deny it) is pretty sad!_  
_Dont tell me… have you actually even seen the movie?!_  
_Also sorry, I just arrived at home and got myself ready for bed’_

Bonnibel’s heart was beating so fervently in her chest that she felt blood rush to her ears. Her chest felt tight, as if her feelings were overwhelming her.

“ _It's just a stupid text message, calm down!”_ she told herself and it did help her to calm down just a little. However, she felt just a tad bit embarrassed when Marceline seemed to have seen right through her. Because, in fact, Bonnibel hadn't seen _any_ Disney movie in her life besides the Lion King and Finding Nemo. She had almost zero knowledge about any of the Disney princesses or princes either.

She felt a little called out, to be exact.

 _Bonnibel(11:51pm)_  
_‘So what if? I'm sorry that I'm not that educated in useless movie knowledge._  
_I'm also in bed now. I should probably try to get some sleep soon. I have to pick you up tomorrow after all and I really don't want to endanger your life when I have to drive after not having gotten any sleep.'_

Marceline replied almost immediately after Bonnibel had pressed the send button.

 _Marceline(11:53pm)_  
_‘What. In. The. World??? Disney movies r not just useless knowledge! theyre about morals and friendship and true love and never giving up and and and so much more! Have you ever even seen a Disney movie Bonnibel?!_  
_Also yeah that sounds like a good idea *thumbs up* dont feel like dying just yet’_

 _Bonnibel(11:54pm)_  
_‘What if I didn't? Because no, I have never seen a Disney movie besides Lion King and Finding Nemo. I'm sorry that I'm not nearly as sophisticated in that matter as you are._  
_And don't worry, you won't die. Yet.’_

 _Marceline(11:55pm)_  
_‘if I werent as tired as I am now I would go on a full blown rant because it cant be that your parents failed so miserably raising you_  
_Every good childhood should consist of way too Many sweets and Disney movie nights every Friday!_  
_I think I will have to do some catching up with you_  
_btw the last part sounds super creepy… what are you planning you weird mad scientist?’_

Bonnibel broke out into a smile at the last piece of the message. Did Marceline just invite her to watch Disney movies with her? She might not have been the biggest fan of the Disney franchise, but as long as she got to spend time with Marceline, she would be fine with any kind of movie to watch. As long as it was with the punk rocker, she might even get around to watching something as horrible as the Twilight saga with her.

 _Bonnibel(11:55pm)_  
_‘I’m not planning anything in particular, don’t worry too much about it._  
_Also, does that mean you want to give me tutoring in my movie knowledge? I mean… I might think about it._  
_As long as it's with you….’_

Bonnibel wondered if sending the last part didn't prove to be a little too risky. Her thumb was hovering over the send button but she didn't press it. In the end, she deleted the last part before she forwarded the text.

 _Marceline(11:56pm)_  
_‘very well princess. I will make sure to give you the best Disney tutoring possibly available out there. For free!_  
_Also kinda falling asleep now can't keep my eyes open any longer might even drop my phone on my face any sec now so good night bonnieseetoutommorw’’_

Bubblegum supposed that this was the last message that she could expect from Marceline that night and she laughed to herself at the jumble of words at the end. She could be kinda cute although she was always trying to maintain this “I-don’t-give-a-fuck”-attitude around her at school where she was not safe from the hungry eyes of their peers. Bonnibel knew that defense mechanism very well. Once you've made up a reputation for yourself, you wouldn't want to breach it. And someone actually catching up on Marceline being a softie on the inside (and really, Bonnibel already gathered so much information that she knew this was an actual side of her) would definitely only result in even more nasty rumors revolving around the “eerie” faux-vampire.

Similar things had happened to her before. And even up to this day, Bonnibel couldn't think about them without feeling a nasty sting ripping through her chest.

She had told the older girl that she would be going to sleep soon, but after she spent some time browsing through social media on her phone, she couldn’t hold herself back from going on Marceline’s Facebook profile.

She looked at the profile picture that she was now able to make larger after Marceline had accepted her friend invite. It was the same picture she had seen earlier. She grimaced when she thought back about her findings this afternoon.

Because finding Marceline’s profile on Facebook hadn't been as easy as one might think.

Lost in her memories, Bonnibel didn't notice how dangerously close her thumb was hovering above the like button for the photo, and before she even had a chance to react to it, she had left a like on the profile picture.

“No. Shit, shit, shit!” She cursed as she sat up straight in her bed. Now Marceline would be able to see that she had been stalking her profile! At midnight on a school’s night. And after telling her that she would go to bed soon.  
Bonnibel knew that she could have just pressed the like button again to unlike the picture. But somehow… she didn't want to. Even though it might be a little embarrassing… she just couldn't bring herself to unlike the picture. Not with this perfect smile painted on Marceline’s face making her look as if she was having the best time of her life with her best friend in one arm and another person that was cropped out of the picture in the other arm.

Although it made Bonnibel smile herself when she looked at the little wrinkles around Marceline’s eyes with this face splitting smile on her face, her stomach turned sour when she remembered the first time she had come across this picture.

However, in that one, the person to Marceline’s right hadn't been cut out.

 

⏪«♥»«♥»

 

“I can’t believe how difficult it is to reach a good compromise with the principal. As of now, it pretty much looks like we won’t be able to hold the Halloween party at school.”

Lady let herself fall down on the beanbag with a loud and annoyed groan escaping her throat. She put the pile of paper that she was carrying in her hand on her face and went limp, arms dangling on either side of the bag in Bonnie’s room.

“It’s ridiculous. But I’ve heard before that he can be kind of an asshole. It just took him a while to show that side of him to me, I guess,” said Bonnibel, who was currently going through several papers on her desk as well and adjusted the glasses that she had to wear after especially tiring days when her eyesight wouldn’t play along any longer.

“Does it really surprise you that he took that long, Bubblegum? You’re one of his favorite students already. You already were the second you walked through the doors of our school… _Princess_.”

Bonnibel didn’t even need to turn around to see the smug smile on Lady’s face, the nickname just said it all.

“I am not going to comment on that, thank you,” she said and finally gave up on going through the papers in front of her when she concluded that they would eventually have to blow off the Halloween party for their school. For whatever reason, the principal would just come up with more and more things that made it insanely difficult to organize that event at their school, be it the guidelines for cases in which there would be a fire, providing enough escape routes in case of any other emergency or even finding supervisors for the evening. 

The more paperwork they got, the more they knew that this was going to be a hopeless case.

“I don’t get it, he seemed to be fine with it the first time we asked to organize the party. I wonder what made him change his mind all of a sudden,” Lady contemplated loudly, then sat up in the bean bag and let all of the papers fall to the floor, a clear sign of acknowledging their defeat.

Bubblegum was currently very invested in gnawing on a pencil while thinking about that question herself.  
However, the answer hit her square in the face pretty quickly.

“I think I have a good idea,” she finally groaned, letting her head sink down on her desk in frustration. “Remember the incident with my hair?” Lady nodded and even though Bonnibel wasn’t able to see it, she instinctively knew that Lady was listening to her, “So, the principal called me into his office when I was back at school a week later and asked me if _someone_ might have done this to me on purpose. He even insisted that no one would find out about it if I told him who the person was, despite there not even being a person in the first place. But of course I knew that he was talking about Marceline. I saw her schedule lying on his desk, perfectly put on display for me. I told him that Marceline didn’t do it and then I excused myself without waiting for his reply.”

“Oh, what. Have. You. DONE?!” Lady cried at her, clutching her face in frustration. “That explains everything! The changed attitude toward you and us not making any progress with this party. And this pretty much also settles that we will never be able to hold any kind event ever again at this pathetic excuse of a school.”

“Are you saying that I did the wrong thing?” asked Bonnibel with a sharp hint of hurt pride and annoyance in her tone, making Lady recoil into her seat.

“Nooo, of course not!...” but she paused herself in the end while also avoiding eye-contact with her best friend.

“But?” Bubblegum continued for her friend instead.

But before she said anything more, Lady was fidgeting in the beanbag and kept playing around with her fingers. Still, after having had to endure Bubblegum’s fierce stare longer than she was able to handle, she spoke.

“Of course you didn’t do anything wrong. Marceline wasn’t responsible for anything, it would have been insanely dickish to blame everything on her. But… But the principal hates her and you _defended_ her. In a very cocky tone, by the way! Of course he's pissed at you now.”

Bubblegum shrugged. “I think I will never really get behind his issue with Marceline. But he’s incredibly incompetent as a principal when he constantly resorts to harassing an innocent student when blaming her for anything that goes wrong at this school just because she had been a difficult case at one point in his career.”

Lady didn’t say anything to that because she knew that her friend was right in absolute everything she just said. It was a shame to both of them, however, that they wouldn’t be able to provide their fellow students with their long planned Halloween party. They had even prepared posters already, but thankfully they hadn't yet put them up at school.

As if on cue, both girl sighed at once and then locked eyes.

“Let’s just give it up. It’s just a stupid Halloween party anyway,” Bonnibel said.

“That is something only someone who didn’t grow up here could say,” Lady taunted and Bubblegum rolled her eyes in response.

“It’s just not that big in Germany, okay?” she defended herself and finally got rid of these annoying glasses where the lenses would always poke at her eyelashes.

Lady only yawned in return and stretched herself out when she left her spot on the rosé beanbag to pick up the papers that she had scattered on the floor before.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” she then said and walked over to her best friend who was currently rubbing at her eyes, “My parents invited you to dinner this weekend.”

“They’re here? That’s rare,” Bubblegum replied, clearly surprised that Lady’s parents had found an opportunity to visit one of their children, who were all scattered across the world, while also being secretly a little jealous of her. She hadn’t talked much to her parents in the last two weeks, with their tight schedule and her school and other appointments always getting in the way on top of the issue with the different time zones they were living in. She was even beginning to miss them a little - and she especially wanted to hear her brother’s voice again.  
But she knew that they would call soon. After all, she was about to have her first business appointment here in Ooo and her father would probably want to make sure that it would be going smoothly. And according to his imagination.

“Yeah, I was surprised too. But apparently my dad wanted to see you before your big day and give you a little thumbs up, you know?”

Bonnibel smiled, although it was a bit forced but she hoped Lady wouldn’t notice. Truth was, she was hella nervous about that appointment that Lady’s father had arranged for her family’s company. It was nothing new, both of their families had been working together as long as she could remember since her and Lady’s father were long acquainted childhood friends.

It was the little detail that Ooo was the birthplace of both of their fathers that was putting her under so much pressure. Of course, the expectations for handling her first client after almost a year that she had only concentrated on getting used to her new school instead of helping out her parents’ company were already high enough, but with the client being located in Ooo, this business appointment was something that both of their families were really eager to succeed in. They had already managed to sell some of their products at their school, the cinema or at the University of Aaa and Ooo’s community college, but with this client, they would be able to sell their products across all the supermarkets not only in Ooo but also in Aaa.

She almost laughed when she thought back about that time when her parents said she wouldn't have to worry about business appointments getting in her way and that she would have time to fully concentrate on graduating. But when this opportunity suddenly came up, her father was quick to call and set her up with a new client, besides having promised to do the opposite.

“That’s really nice of him,” Bubblegum eventually said, almost choking on her words after that awful train of thought had picked up. “I’ll be gladly accepting their offer. Where are we going?”

Lady hummed contently. “It’s where you had your first _date_ with your little _crush_.” Oh, how Bubblegum hated this cheeky grin on her face.

“No, we’ve been over this more than often enough. I’m not taking the bait.”

“Fiiine,” Lady drawled and wrapped her arms around Bonnibel’s neck and let her head rest on top of her friend’s head. “How’s it going by the way? You making progress? Also what really happened there between you and the boys during lunch?” It was a ton of questions that was suddenly raining out of Lady’s mouth but Bubblegum knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid any of them.

She just decided to make it quick.  
“I talked to her in the hallway after chem class because I was getting annoyed about not knowing why everyone was so suspicious of her. She turned me down but told me that the principal is an asshole and that he hates her. And that’s certainly very true.” Lady again nodded in agreement on top of Bubblegum’s head. “And then I wanted to ask the boys about what was going on with her. Jake tried to convince me about how awful she is, but I didn’t buy it. And then there was a little tension between us because of it and because we clearly had other opinions about her.”

She sighed. “Anyway, I haven’t talked to her since after first period and we kind of somehow agreed on texting each other, I think. But no message or anything yet.”

“Hmm,” Lady hummed again and got up from her spot on Bonnibel’s head. Instead, she moved to Bonnibel’s comfortable box spring and crawled on top of it. “Give her some time. If she doesn’t want to talk about it, then she doesn’t want to talk about it. And you should also stop snooping around in other people’s businesses so much, Bubblegum! Especially behind their backs.”

 

And she knew that Lady was right about that. But Bonnibel was still convinced that knowing about Marceline’s past would only make her able to help her out in the end. Sucking in her lip in thought, she turned to her rat resting in his cage next to her, and when he noticed that she was looking at him, he came running up to her and let himself be nuzzled through the little bars of his cage before Bubblegum freed him and let him rest in her hands.

“You’re right, I should really tone it down a little.”

“And you should maybe apologize, too?” Lady bit back a little accusingly.  
Bonnibel bit down on her lip. She wasn’t really sure if she was in the wrong when wanting to help her crush out a bit by making some investigations. But she was also aware that apologizing wasn’t her greatest talent.  
“Yeah, okay. That too.”

For a moment, both friends just concentrated on themselves, something they would do quite often while being together. Just relaxing, forgetting about the whole stress of the day and still enjoying the feeling of not being alone. It was something they both have come to use as coping mechanisms any time they would start to be feeling lonely. After all, with families that run big businesses and do not have a lot of time, it could become quite lonely pretty fast. And more importantly, both basically grew up in such a close environment that they were basically like siblings, so each other’s closeness was able to provide them with the comfort of being with a family member.

Bonnibel was still cuddling with Science in her hand, who had his tiny black eyes closed as he enjoyed the gentle touches that Bonnie was providing him with. Lady on the other hand was still resting on Bubblegum’s bed, browsing Facebook. And suddenly, she was sitting upright in the bed. It happened so fast that both Bonnie and Science got a little scare.

“Jake just messaged me. Marceline just joined the basketball team.” Hastily, Lady scrambled out of the bed and showed her friend the message.

“Oh wow, I see he’s coping very well with these news, ” Bonnie replied sarcastically when she read the very angered message with way too many exclamation marks at the end of it.

“Do you know what that means?! When the basketball season starts, we’ll be able to both cheer them on!” Lady exclaimed excitedly while Bonnibel had some difficulties with finding this idea as riveting as her friend. Sure, she was really into Marceline, but she wasn’t particularly into basketball.

“I see that you’re just as excited about that as I am,” Lady snorted sarcastically and then added, “Alright, maybe this doesn’t get your attention, but with Marceline joining the basketball team she will become part of Finn and Jake’s friend group. Of our friends, Bubblegum. That’s your chance to get a little closer to her!”

Bonnibel thought about it for a second and realized that Lady was right. But then she remembered what Marceline had replied when she had asked her to sit with her and her friends during lunch today and that made her small smile on her lips disappear almost immediately. Thankfully, Lady wasn’t seeing the quick switch of emotions on her face because she was so caught up in replying Jake that her eyes were practically attached to her phone’s screen.

Bonnibel herself decided that she would also take a look at her phone that was lying on the desk, buried somewhere under a bunch of paper, after she had put Science back into his cage. Finally freeing it from the mess of her desk, she pressed her finger against the sensor on the back and her phone turned on, showing her a picture of Albert Einstein that she had put as her background. However, no new message.

“Just wait a little longer. And if she still hasn’t texted you in two hours, you can try and message her first.” Lady gave her friend a knowing smile. Bonnie smiled back.

They went back to their own businesses just like before, but this time Bonnibel was browsing through Facebook when suddenly, she got an idea.

“Hey, Lady? Marceline told me that she is in a band. Do you know anything about that?” Bonnie asked.

“Oh yeah, she is! Her voice is amazing! You haven’t heard it yet?!” Lady seemed to be utterly shocked that Bonnibel hadn’t even listened to one of their songs yet. If it were up to her, she would have already tried to stalk her crush over Facebook and find out any valuable information that was possibly available out there about them - is what she was rambling on about before she snatched Bonnibel’s phone out of her hand and started typing.

“Argh, wait, I forgot their name,” Lady groaned and scratched at her head when she tried to remember the band’s name. “I know for sure that Marceline’s name is in there. Something with Marceline and the… Vampire… Gang? Glob, I have no idea anymore.”

“Hold on,” Bubblegum interrupted and pulled out her laptop that was resting in one of her desk’s drawers. She quickly booted it up and used one of her neatly organized bookmarks (all sorted in alphabetical order) and opened Facebook. “Let’s see. Maybe we can find something on her profile. She uses Facebook, right?”

Lady shrugged, not sure herself. “This is a really good excuse to be stalking her profile, Bubblegum,” she said proudly however and playfully bumped shoulders with her friend while Bonnibel made space for Lady on her chair and tried her best at hiding the small blush on her face. “I’m just doing some research, that is all,” Bubblegum retorted sheepishly.

“Pfft, _sure_ ,” Lady almost had to laugh. She knew her best friend too well and was very well aware that this was an opportunity that Bonnibel had been waiting for.

Said person quickly typed the name “Marceline Abadeer” into the search bar on the most popular social media platform on the Internet and was confronted with very few results, where only one of them showed a minimized picture of a girl with two other people by her side that at least seemed to be resembling her crush.

She did a double click on that profile and it did indeed turn out to be Marceline in the middle of the picture when they now got a better look at the bigger version of it.

She was smiling from ear to ear, and Bonnibel tried to remember if she had ever seen the girl smiling that widely before. Even though she couldn’t recall anything that came even close to that smile in the picture, Bonnibel felt a weird feeling take over her body. All her senses began tingling at once, as if every part of her body had just fallen asleep and was now slowly beginning to wake up again.

“Wow, girl. You’re grinning as if someone just told you that they’ve found a live recording of the Big Bang,” Lady pointed out amusedly and Bonnibel immediately tried to stop that wicked grin from conquering more corners of her face. “It’s just weird seeing her this happy, you know,” the young scientist confessed and Lady actually nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ve never seen her smile like that at school. All I ever see her with is her annoyed _‘don’t-talk-to-me’_ face. She must really hate going to school.”

And Bubblegum hoped that this was the only reason they never saw Marceline smile at school - besides the few occasions that she would be mocking Bonnibel, of course. _“At least that’s making her happy, I guess.”_ But somehow, she doubted that hating school really was the only reason for the absence of happiness when it came to the Vampire Queen.

Bonnibel turned her attention back to the profile picture and took a look at the two people at Marceline’s side.

To her left was a dark-skinned girl with black curly hair and beautiful freckles on her face that only seemed to underline the overwhelming glint in her hazelnut eyes when her face was lighting up with the same joy that she seemed to be sharing with Marceline in this picture.  
While Marceline had one of her arms slung around the girl, the girl also had one arm slung around the punk rocker’s neck, so Bonnibel assumed that both girls had to be pretty close to each other.  
To her right was a guy, with a really outstanding and horribly ugly, gray-colored Mohawk. It gave Bonnibel goosebumps just looking at the guy, and when she saw that he had his arm possessively slung around Marceline’s waist, she felt like throwing up. It didn’t help this guy’s image at all that he was also clearly holding a beer bottle in his unoccupied hand, but Bonnibel noticed that Marceline was holding a beer in one of her hands as well. It made her stomach churn even more since the girl _obviously_ looked to be a few years younger in that picture than she was now.

“Do you know who these people are?” Bonnibel asked Lady, who had also been intently staring at the profile picture alongside her friend.

“Hmm, I think that girl is her best friend. They always hung out together at school. But she was one year above us. Oh, did you know that Marceline actually used to be one year above us as well?”

Bonnibel looked at Lady in shock. “...What?”

“Yeah, when I was a freshman she was a sophomore already. I think she had to repeat a year,” her best friend explained while playing around with a blonde strand of her hair.

“Do you know why she had to repeat a year?”

But Lady only shrugged, not being able to answer that question. “No idea.”

“ _Underage drinking and having to a repeat a year? Is that what you don’t want me to know?”_ Bonnibel thought to herself but then she noticed that Lady hadn’t said anything about that weird guy in Marceline’s profile picture yet.

“What about the guy, though? Do you know who he is?” Bubblegum asked her friend and Lady momentarily began fidgeting in her seat as if it had suddenly become really uncomfortable to sit on.

“That guy is… her ex-boyfriend. They used to date in sophomore year as well.”

Bonnibel felt like her jaw was about to hit the ground, when in reality, she had her mouth closed tightly, almost tensely even.

“Her… ex-boyfriend,” she repeated, slowly, quietly. “That guy,” she pointed at the screen and said in disbelief, “used to be her boyfriend?”

"Yeaaaah…,” Lady confirmed and almost winced as she did so.

Bonnibel nodded. To herself - for about a minute. Silently. Before she finally said, “Alright. Okay. That’s it, then.”

Lady looked at her friend in confusion. And maybe a little terrified. “What are you talking about?”

“If that’s her type then - goodbye. I’m, like, the extreme opposite of him. I don’t have anything on me that even slightly resembles him. If that’s what Marceline likes, then I’m not even anywhere near that spectrum of people she finds attractive.”

Suddenly, she could her a snickering at her side. It was Lady, who then broke out into loud laughter. “Oh my Glob, Bubblegum! Trust me, everyone is glad that you don’t bear any resemblance to that guy.”

“Well, I’m not, because this now definitely disqualifies me as any of Marceline’s potential love interests. Not only is she into guys, she is also into _ugly_ punk rock guys.” A gloomy expression settled onto Bubblegum’s face and she roughly leaned back into her chair while crossing her arms over her chest.

In the meantime, Lady was trying to bring her laughter under control but it was pretty difficult doing so when she now also saw that sulking expression on her childhood friend’s face. “Bubblegum, _hey_ ,” she began, still chuckling but trying to stop because what she wanted to say next was going to be serious, “It does not _disqualify_ you. That was three years ago. People change and taste changes too. And honestly, you cannot say that someone is clearly straight just because that person was once dating someone of the opposite gender. You taught me that yourself.”

Bubblegum didn’t react to that, but deep down, she knew that Lady was right. It was because she had once tried to explain to someone that a bisexual person is not suddenly straight because they’re not dating someone of the same gender. It always surprised her that a lot people didn’t seem to understand that, and yes, maybe it was a little embarrassing and awkward when she suddenly became aggressive toward strangers that she overheard at a fast food restaurant, but she couldn’t help it but to give these people a piece of her mind and educate them.

But now the situation was different. And somehow, it just felt easier to accept defeat here and now and accepting that Marceline was just straight and they would never even have had a chance together in the first place instead of living on in uncertainty and letting a girl so unlike her make her head spin every day because she just couldn’t seem to figure her out.

“I’m not sure if that helps,” Lady suddenly spoke up and startled her friend a bit because she had almost forgotten about Lady being with her in the room, “But I know from some people that Marceline was seen kissing other girls at parties. A lot of times, actually.”

No, that didn’t really help Bubblegum at all. If anything, it only made her mood turn even more sour. “Great, so apparently she _doesn’t even care_ about who she’s making out with.”

Lady sighed. “Bubblegum, stop it. I know that this is just a defense mechanism that is making you think that way about her, but you need to stop. All I wanted to say is that you shouldn’t let it get you down. She was - I don’t know - about fifteen back then and that relationship was barely something serious, alright? Now, let’s stop sulking and find yourself some of her songs to cheer you up.”

Bonnibel nodded because she knew that her friend was right. And she was thankful for her pulling her out of her miserable thoughts.

After that, they both returned their attention to the laptop and Bubblegum just began scrolling down on Marceline’s profile, when almost immediately, she stopped doing so at once.

Both Lady and her stared at the screen in horror, not prepared for the situation that was currently unfolding in front of their eyes.

There appeared to be an almost endless amount of comments on Marceline’s Facebook wall.

And all of them contained brutal hate-messages, violent insults and even death threats.

It turned absolutely silent between the two friends as Bonnibel scrolled through more and more of these messages, one more hateful than the other, one more painful to read than the comment before it.

 

“ _Go fucking kill yourself stupid bitch”_

“ _I hope you die in the gutter, piece of shit”_

“ _Take a good look at this, guys. This is what happens when you dont know your place!”_

“ _the only thing your mouth was ever good for was sucking dick after all”_

“ _fucking useless slut”_

“ _do us all a favor and kill yourself please”_

 

“What the hell is this?” Bonnibel whispered, terrified that she had come face to face with hate that exceeded everything she had imagined before. She knew that Marceline wasn’t well-liked, but this… this was cyber bullying at its worst and it made her sick to her stomach knowing that Marceline had gotten so many notifications on her phone that were telling her to finally die or kill herself - it made her sick knowing that Marceline had woken up every morning with tons of people calling her a slut or names that were even worse.

“Wow,” was all Lady was able to say. “I didn’t know that-… I feel horrible. I didn’t know people were giving her so much shit.” But then Lady pointed something out, “but look, the last post is from two years ago. I don’t think she’s using this profile anymore.”

Still, for Bonnibel that weren’t any news that made the situation any better. This profile was still out there on the Internet, accessible to anybody who knew only as much as her name. She noticed that her hand was trembling when she hovered over her laptop’s touch pad and she decided to return to her news feed instead of having to look at these awful messages any longer.

Both of the friends needed some time to process what they had just seen but after a few minutes of regaining their com-postures, Lady softly said, “I remember the name of the band. It’s Marceline and the Scream Queens.”

Bonnibel didn’t even hesitate to type that name into the search bar and she was relieved to find a page with that exact name and finding out that at least over one thousand people had left a like on the page. It was like applying a little band-aid to her soul, because after all the messages that she had had to read through on her profile, she just wanted to know that Marceline was still able to smile, that these comments weren’t bringing her down, and seeing that at least a thousand people were supporting her band and liking what she did was calming the young scientist down for now.

Nonetheless, it was hard for her seeing what Marceline has had to live through. Because it also brought back memories about her past - about her old school.

However, Bonnibel did everything she could to suppress these memories, and for now it seemed to work out.

She told herself to focus on something else and she did just that with observing the Facebook page that had just opened up on her laptop. The header for the page was the band’s name written in a blood red print against a dark background, and the icon looked like a group photo of the band members in some kind of garage. Bonnibel clicked on the photo and carefully inspected the band members. In the photo she could immediately spot Marceline standing in front of a microphone with a very unusual red axe-shaped bass in her hand, and next to her stood the girl from the picture from before, also standing in front of a microphone but with a black guitar in her hands. A little bit further in the back she could spot two guys, one was a lanky young man with medium-length hair running down up to his shoulders standing in front of a keyboard, and the other guy appeared to be the drummer of the band with short black hair and a goatee on his rounded chin.

“Let’s listen to one of their songs,” Lady suggested. “They mostly do covers, though. But they’re still very good.” Bonnibel agreed and clicked on a recommended video that she figured must have been the video with the most likes on the page.

The video started and Bonnibel turned the volume of her laptop up. Heavy guitar sounds came blaring out of her speakers and Marceline appeared on screen with her bass guitar in her hand.

When she started singing, however, a cold shudder rode through her body. Yes, she had to agree with Lady that Marceline’s voice was really, _really_ beautiful, even hauntingly so. But it were the lyrics that she was singing that made Bonnibel wish she had a blanket wrapped around her right now because another cold shiver ran through her body right when the first verse started.

“ _Have you cried yourself to sleep_  
_Have you felt this incomplete  
__Have you ever cut yourself so deep to see if you still bleed”_

“These are some… heavy lyrics,” Lady said in a low voice and shivered herself. After the stuff they had just been through, these lyrics didn’t leave a good aftertaste in their mouths.

“ _I'm hanging by a thread, a rope, the noose around my neck_  
_I choke, 'cause every time I'm falling_  
_Love falls out of me_  
_I'm hardened like a rock, a stone, the brick inside my chest_  
_Alone 'cause every time I'm falling_  
_Love falls out of me  
__Love falls out of me”_

Bonnibel stopped the video before the next verse could start, certain that she wouldn’t be able to bear hearing anymore of these lyrics after everything that had just happened. Instead, she moved her cursor to open up the comments and she was relieved to see that the song had been uploaded two years ago. However, even though it did calm her down a little when she saw that her crush seemed to have recovered from everything that happened a couple of years ago, she was still horrified knowing that two years ago, Marceline hadn’t been in a good place at all.

“Let’s listen to something else, shouldn’t we?” Lady asked a bit nervously, also very uncomfortable about having found out more about their school’s acclaimed Vampire Queen than she had intended to.

This time, the science-lover scrolled down a little longer on the page and they came across one of the songs that had been uploaded not such a long time ago.

“Is that....” Bonnibel gasped, looking at the title of the song in absolute perplexity because it surprised her to be seeing an _Ed Sheeran_ song sung by Marceline of all people. “That’s quite the development, I would say,” said Lady, looking just as startled as her friend when none of the two could actually believe their eyes.

So, because they weren’t trusting what they were seeing, Bonnibel started the video, already kind of expecting it to be a metal cover of the song or something like that. Almost simultaneously, both of their jaws sprung open when they heard soft guitar tunes being released into Bonnibel’s room. Then Marceline started singing. And that’s when they both knew that this was not going to be a metal cover of the song, but a full-blown ballad like the original.

“ _I found a love for me_  
_Darling just dive right in_  
_And follow my lead_  
_Well I found a girl_  
_beautiful and sweet  
__I never knew you were the someone waiting for me_

_'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love_

_Not knowing what it was_  
_I will not give you up this time_  
_But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own  
_ _And in your eyes you're holding mine”_

“You’re seeing this too, right?” Bonnibel asked, mouth and eyes wide open.  
“Yep, I’m also hearing it,” Lady replied, eyes glued to the screen.

Marceline was sitting on a bar stool, one leg lazily crossed over the other, an acoustic guitar resting on her thighs. She had her eyes closed, her fingers plugging the strings of her guitar with expertise and a small smile was playing on her lips when she sung the probably most cheesiest love ballad out there.

And back was that weird tingling feeling in every part of Bubblegum’s body. Green eyes took in every second of the video carefully, scared to miss even a second that Marceline’s lips moved on her screen, fascinated by the dance that her fingers did on her guitar that would create beautiful soft notes that her ears absorbed with hunger.

“Alright girl,” Lady cut in with an amused chuckle, “could it be that you just fell even harder for her? You look like you want to leech on to her any second now and rip her clothes off, Bubblegum!”

“How could I not? She’s perfect…,” Bubblegum mumbled a little absentmindedly, captivated by Marceline’s wonderfully melodic voice.

There were two loud knocks on her door and Pepe slowly walked into the room. Bonnibel stopped the video when her butler cleared his throat to get the girls’ attention.  
“Dinner is ready, m’ladies. I’ll meet you downstairs,” he announced and left the room again, closing the door behind him. Bonnibel closed her laptop and both of the friends got up from the chair that they had been sharing.

“Alright, I’ll be heading home after this,” Lady said and already began assembling all her stuff occupying almost every one corner of Bonnibel’s room. “By the way, how do you stand living like this? I mean, with your butler always bursting into your room. What if you want to have some… well, _privacy_ to yourself?” Lady asked, genuinely curious how Bonnibel was managing that invasion of her privacy all the time. She was just glad that her guardian was at least respecting her need for privacy, especially when Jake would be staying over.

“Well, first of all, he knows that he has to knock _at least_ twice now. And he simply doesn’t come into my room after dinner. That’s some rules we’ve established.”

“Did you set up those rules before or after he-”  
  
“No further questions,” Bonnibel interrupted sharply, hitting the staple of paper, which she had just organized, on her desk so that any stray paper could fall into line with the others before she stapled it.

Lady put her hands up over her head. “I was just teasing,” she snickered. “Let’s get something to eat.”

 

 

«♥»«♥»

 

“Thanks for the meal, Pepe!” Lady called into the kitchen while she was putting on her shoes in the hallway. Bonnibel was leaning on the railing of the stairs, browsing her phone while her friend got ready to go home.

She couldn’t help but go back to Marceline’s profile on Facebook and once again take a look at all these hateful comments left behind on her wall.

Bonnibel decided to click on one of the names of these pricks and noticed something interesting.

“Lady,” she said to get her friend’s attention. “All of these profiles on Marceline’s wall - they’re fake.”

“Of course. Who would want to be found out to be such a dick?”

Bonnibel hummed, her eyebrows furrowed. “That’s still insane. These are well over a hundred of comments and a hundred of different people. Who would do such a thing?”

“I have no idea,” Lady confessed as she was tying her shoes. “But I know that Marceline used to hang out with people that weren’t actually the friendliest. But listen Bubblegum,” a warning tone was directed at the science-nerd and Bonnibel, taken off-guard, looked up from her phone and at her friend.

“Don’t get too invested in that stuff, alright? If you want to know what happened, then you should ask Marceline in person. Snooping around behind her back about matters she doesn’t want you to know will only make her suspicious of you. We can only assume that she went through a lot and probably doesn’t want old wounds to be opened up again. You should respect that.”

Bubblegum turned silent. She let her arm fall to her side and swallowed harshly. That warning _stuck_ with her. Because she knew that Lady was absolutely right. Sometimes, she hated that side of hers that just didn’t seem to be able to stop when it was appropriate, and instead continued to make matters worse when she tried to figure people out. But trying to figure people out without actually talking to them - that almost always proved to be a method destined to fail every time.

“I’m sorry for my harsh words,” Lady said when she got up from the ground and hugged her best friend who had frozen in place, “but sometimes you just need that, Bubblegum.” Bonnibel hugged her back.

“Yeah, I know,” she answered quietly into Lady’s sweatshirt, embarrassed about herself.

“Also, you should message her soon. Either she wants to talk to you and is waiting for a text, or she doesn’t and she will let you know. Try anyway,” Lady said with a wink. Bonnibel nodded. “Will do.”

And after that, they said goodbye.

With a sigh, Bonnibel returned to her room. Without the energy left to clean up the remaining mess in her room, she just let herself down onto her bed and opened up Facebook once again. This time, she didn’t go on Marceline’s profile. She decided that she would never go there again.

She went on the page of Marceline’s band instead and took another look at the group picture, however, attention only on the punk rocker in the middle of the photo for a good minute, just taking everything about Marceline in - her outfit, her beautiful, enormous tresses of black hair and these _awfully stylish leather boots_. She also went through some of the comments left under the picture, most of them reading something along the lines of “ _youre amazing!”_ , _“keep going, cant wait for more!”_ , _“love everything you do, your gonna be big someday”_ and even several comments that were saying things like _“how is the singer so hot!?_ ”, _“how are BOTH the girls so hot??”_ She could only agree with those comments.

Suddenly, Bonnibel noticed that there were links embedded in the photo, and when she took a closer look, she saw that there was a link directly put on Marceline’s face.

She clicked on it and another Facebook profile turned up on her screen. The name of the person read “Queen Marceline” and almost every feature on the profile was set on private, accessible only until the person had accepted your friend request.

“ _Lady was right. She does have a new profile.”_

And without thinking twice, Bonnibel clicked on the button “Add Friend”, before she opened up her chat with Marceline.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im too tired to look through everything in ao3 formatting but Ill eventually come back to it tomorrow so there may be some changes. 
> 
> The first song that Marceline is singing is called Love Falls by HELLYEAH and you should definitely check it out (its also on the official Murphy's Law playlist)
> 
> Now, leave a like if you like that story so far, comment if youre lonely and just wanna talk (just kidding... you can do that on tumblr its kouhasbuttcheek, remember?)  
> I love every one of you who has left kudos or comments here so far and I hope something great will happen to you soon! See you next time (two gay girls in a car, what could possibly go wrong? Take a look at the name of this fic again and think for yourselves)


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